


Safe Haven

by LWBee



Series: Take the Sky from me [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Verse, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Minor Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWBee/pseuds/LWBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Edric Cadash is not having the best day ever. When the Coterie thug, Harlan backs out on a deal he's left with a whole bunch of civilians sitting on top of his stolen cargo. But there are others with the money to pay, and as long as nothing else goes wrong it will all be fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chaos all around. Shouts of fear and confusion from soldiers who had triggered ice or fire mines. Flashes of spells fired from atop enemy bombers lighting up the night sky periodically, the Imperium method of focusing spells through processed lyrium crystals utilised to devastating effect.

Edric kept close to the ground, scrambling over rocks and firing what shots he could at the bombers flying overhead, until he made it to the barricade, diving into cover as a young looking mage approached him. _Apprentice,_ he corrected himself internally, there wasn’t the infrastructure for Harrowings in the middle of war, and the boy was far too young to have gone through the procedure to confront a demon before the systems of the outer rim had rebelled against Imperium control.

“Sergeant,” the boy said hurriedly, “command says air support is holding back until they assess our status,”

“Our status? Our status is we need some stone forsaken air support. So get back on the sending crystal and tell them to get in here!”

“That lightening is shredding us,” Cass said by way of introduction as she joined him on the ground, a sheen of sweat visible on her forehead, moving immediately to reload her rifle.

“They won’t move without a lieutenant’s authorisation code, sir.”

Edric swore again under his breath, looking around the dead bodies littering the floor to find… Lieutenant Roderick. Edric allowed himself a brief moment to be sorry for the man, a devout Andrastian never wholly convinced of the goals of the Inquisition, and now dead here in Haven. Still Edric tore the rank patch off his arm, handing it to the boy.

“Here, you’re Lieutenant Roderick. Congratulations on your promotion. Now get me some air support!” He turned to the other rebels gathered around. “Pull back just far enough to wedge them in hear. Any mages in your squad lay as many mines laid and then get to high ground, start picking them off,”

“High ground is death with those lightening mages in the air,” Cass replied.

“That’s our problem. Sutherland, give us some cover fire, we’re going duck hunting,”

A sudden explosion rocked the barricade, followed by an inhuman screeching that chilled the listeners to the bone. Edric tracked the shiver that went through his remaining soldiers and frowned, “Ok, just focus. Necromancy is unnerving, but what you see, what you hear, is not real. The Imperium thought they were going to waltz through Haven, and we choked them with those words. We have done the impossible, and that makes us mighty. Just a little while longer. Our griffons are going to swarm overhead raining fire and ice on those arrogant blood mages, so you hold.” He looked around, seeing the unconvinced faces of young men and women watching him uncertainly. “You hold!” he shouted, driving the point home. “Go!”

The group dispersed, Cass giving her rifle a final check, while Edric took out his worn symbol of the Paragon Endrin, the steel chipped and scuffed, and pressed it to his lips.

“You really think we can bring it down, Ser?” Cass asked.

“You even need to ask?” Edric grinned without turning to look at his partner. “You ready?”

“Always,”

Edric didn’t bother to give the instruction to move out, confident that Cass would follow him out into the field. He went out shooting, the only defence that had a chance of working was keeping the bullets firing. Behind him he heard Cass yell “Sutherland!” followed by indistinct swearing and the sound of gunfire that he knew immediately to be from Cass’ rifle. So much for cover fire from Sutherland…

Edric gunned down a Tevinter foot soldier, managing to make it to the next bit of cover. Fire, run, get into cover, repeat. The world shuddered unsteadily, the flashing lights and adrenalin a heady rush as he headed for his target; a gaatlok powered cannon, with focus crystals and spirit runes calibrated to help target distant objects. He fired on the enemy soldiers manning the gun, and ran unsteadily down the bank to mount it himself. His heart beat felt heavy against his chest as he clambered up onto the canon, needing to stand on tip-toes to use the human sized controls, and moved it to target the lightening bomber; the images through the crystals showed the pilot and caster clear and close, and he fired.

Fire blossomed from the wing of the bomber, and Edric let out a whoop of exhilaration. Not a second later but his exhilaration turned to heart stopping fear as he saw the trajectory of the bomber was straight toward them. Edric stumbled off the gun, clambering to get to his partner.

“Cass!!” he yelled as he ran, feet tripping over stones and bodies as he scrambled to get clear of the crashing plane.

Cass whipped around, eyes wide as she saw flames and unravelling magic hurtling toward them, and turned to run. Edric, now within reach of her, dived sideways, sending them both falling down into the ditches of the barricade in time to watch the fiery ball fly past them and crash into the nearby hillside.

The pair looked on at the burning crash site for a couple of seconds before Edric began to laugh, nerves making him slightly hysterical. Cass sighed deeply, and glared at her partner before hauling herself to her feet and beginning to jog back to their barricade.

“Nice cover fire,” Cass snapped at Sutherland when they made it back, who only looked up at them dully. He hadn’t moved.

“Did you see that?!” Edric enthused, still on a high from their brush with death. “hey, what’s our status on…” he trailed off. The boy, the one he’d ‘promoted’, lay slumped against the sandbags unmoving. Blood was visible, trailing over his face, and Edric new that should he care to look, a substantial portion of the back of his head had most likely been blown off. “Cass.” He said quietly.

Cass didn’t need any explanation, only moving to take over the sending crystal and find out where their air support was.

Edric used the chance to go and check on Sutherland. “Hey, listen to me,” he said, but the young man didn’t seem to register him, “Sutherland, look at me!” reluctantly Sutherland met his superior’s gaze, eyes distant and miserable. “We’re holding this village no matter what.” Edric told him certainly.

“We’re going to die.” Sutherland shot back.

“We are not going to die,” Edric replied, “We can’t die, Sutherland, and you know why?” Edric waited for the barest flicker of the eyes to make sure Sutherland was listening. “We are so very pretty. We are just too pretty for the Ancestors to let us die.” then with a cheeky grin he grabbed Sutherland’s chin and shook very slightly, “huh, look at that chizzled jaw, hah? Come on!”

Overhead the sound of approaching aircraft filled the air and Edric breathed an internal sigh of relief. He looked up and said to Sutherland, “If you won’t listen to me, listen to that. Those are our griffons, come to blow the Imperium into the void. Cass!” he said, turning his attention to the Nevarran woman still listening through the sending crystals. “You tell the 82nd to – “

Cass cut him off. “They’re not coming,” she said simply, her voice resigned and disbelieving at the same time. “Command says it’s too hot. They’re pulling out. We’re to lay down arms.”

“But what’s…” Edric said before his mind caught up with him and he really registered what the sounds overhead really were. He looked out over the battlefield, watching the gleaming ships of the Tevinter Imperium descending on the valley, looking for all the world like a plague upon a land that he knew had at one time been peaceful – beautiful. He didn’t register Cass recalibrating the sending crystals so they could speak to the Imperium. He didn’t register Sutherland as he dropped beside him, burns from fire spells on his face. There was only Haven, and the end of the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Response to a kmeme prompt for a Firefly/DA:I fusion and I couldn't resist. http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15866.html?thread=60531706
> 
> Also hi! Very new here and terribly nervous...


	2. Chapter 2

**Six years later**

The dark of space clung around him, tinged slightly blue by the shimmering rune generated barrier that separated him from asphyxiation. The wreckage of the ship floated by them, dark and heavy, but weightless in the endless black. Edric smiled, seeing the vault, still very much intact.

“The vault’s sealed,” he said with satisfaction, “I’m going to burn it. Bull, give me the wire,”

The Iron Bull passed him the inscribed copper wire, which Edric laid out and activated the runes. They glowed and shimmered, and after a few seconds the vault door started to melt. Edric pushed away from the door, and smiled at Cass, “Ok, we get the goods, we’re off this wreck and back on the ship, no worries.”

***

“Everything looks good from here,” manning the helm of the ship a dwarf reclined in the pilot’s seat, gazing through the windows at the stars, his foot against the control panel and using it to swing himself slightly side to side. He wore a brown leather jacket and the red coloured shirt underneath was unbuttoned almost to his navel. His fingers were steepled as he narrated to the air:

“ _Donnen Brennokovic spoke into the radio and went back to surveying the scene before him. The evidence here would ensure the Magistrate was put away for good, and disgrace a good many others among the nobles of the city._

_‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘yes, this is what I call a lucky break,’._

_Wagner spoke up from behind him, ‘I think we should call it your grave!’._

_Donnen whirled around, hand going to his gun, but too late he found, already staring down the barrel of Wagner’s pistol! ‘Ahh! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal! The Magistrate was paying you all along, wasn’t he?’,_

_‘Hahaha! It was all too easy guardsman Brennokovic! Now die!’,_

_‘Argh!!’ Donnen felt the impact of the bullet in his stomach, he fell heavily onto –_ "

A shrill alarm from one of the panels cut off the dramatic tale and the dwarf scrambled to read the dashboard. “Oh, motherless son of a bi–“

***

The panel exploded outwards, air rushing into the vacuum of space.

“Full pressure. The goods must be intact.” Cass noted.

Edric directed the light crystal to the vault entrance, nodding as he saw five or six undamaged crates. “Ok looking good,”

The sending crystal buzzed to life in his ear “Captain, we’ve got incoming Tevinter cruiser bearing right down on us!”

“ _Kaffas_ ,” He swore, “Have they spotted us?”

“I can’t tell if –“

“Have they hailed us?” Edric interrupted impatiently.

“If they’re here for the salvage we’re humped,” the Iron Bull commented nervously.

“If they find us at all we’re humped,” Cass replied, “Thieving isn’t exactly –“

“I don’t like –“

“Excuse me,” Edric snapped, and Cass and the Iron Bull both fell silent, “Varric, shut down all runes and crystals, everything except barriers and air cleaning,”

“I’m on it.”

***

Dagna ran through the ship corridors, as fast as her small legs could carry her. “Dagna, come in Tinkers!” Varric’s voice came over the intercom, “Go to blackout, we’re being buzzed,”

“ _Audio_ , going dark” Dagna replied, deactivating the ship’s rune and crystal systems as she hurried around the power room. She saved the main power crystals for last, climbing to the keystone on the wall which was much too high up for her. The lights from the crystals went dark and Dagna looked around the room, seeing only black. “Ok, now I can’t get down…” she sighed.

***

_Gleaming blue panels of treated focus crystals, pure lyrium running through them constantly, surrounded the crew of the Imperial cruiser Archon. Crewmen milled about, neat uniforms of gold trimmed black and purple a contrast to the green and grey of the ship bulkheads. The hum of magic hung in the air, a constant reminder of the raw power it took to run a vessel of this size._

_“What am I looking at?” asked the officer. He had the features and colouring of an Altus of Minrathous, as purebred as they come, much like most of the ranking officers of the Imperial army._

_“It’s a carrier,” the soporati crewman responded, “blew out a few months back. Lost all hands, but it was only run by a skeleton crew anyway,”_

_“Damn shame,” the officer replied, and he sounded genuine with the sentiment if not overly concerned by the loss of such a small vessel that likely only had Laetan and Soporati crewmembers. “No point in checking for survivors?”_

***

Varric monitored the dashboard with a frown on his face, tracking the progress of the Imperial cruiser.

“Tethras, they slowing down?” Edric said over the sending crystal.

“That’s a no. Doesn’t look like they’re interested in us, they should pass us in a minute or two.”

The spires of the Imperium cruiser loomed up in the dark, drifting past them agonisingly slowly as Varric watched on. Light from the cruiser’s windows cast strange shadows on the panels, making the intricate dragon motifs dance in a strange twilight. Varric wondered, not for the first time, where Tevinter got the lyirum necessary to power such a vast vessel. Then again, he thought, knowing the stories of the Imperium and the Magisters that ruled there, perhaps it was better not to enquire.

***

_“Ser, there is a reading on that thing,” one of the crewmen spoke up – a Laetan. “Some residual magic traces,”_

_The officer nodded, “Do a sweep.”_

***

“Venhedis! Fasta Vass!” Varric swore when a sudden beeping filled the cockpit. He grabbed the sending crystal “Captain, we’re humped!”

“Prep the ship. Now!” came the order.

Varric started flicking switches to prepare for flight and switched the channel to the power room, “Tinkers, fire it up!” Varric continued to swear in Tevene as he opened the cargo bay door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the tell-tale flashes of fighter ships being launched.

“Cry baby cry!” came Edric’s order over the sending crystal.

“Make your mother sigh,” Varric acknowledged, “Activating the cry baby,” He flicked the switch, sending out a signal to the augmented sending crystal system they’d planted only 13 clicks from their location. It was a genius bit of runesmithing on Dagna’s part – perfectly mimicking the distress call signature of a Tevinter personnel carrier.

“Varric, we’re on, go!” Edric shouted.

Without missing a beat Varric pushed the ship into a hard burn, leaving the cruiser in the dark behind them.

***

_“It’s definitely a large ship sir,” the Laetan was saying, “And she’s without power. Do we continue deployment of fighters?”_

_The officer sighed, “Lowlife vultures, picking the flesh off the dead,” He muttered, “No they would never make it back in time. Alright, let’s go help those people. But put out a bulletin and flag the Venatori; a dragon class vessel with possible stolen good on board.” With that he made his way off the bridge, muttering to himself “maybe someone will step on those roaches,”_

***

Edric, Cass and the Iron Bull traipsed into the hanger, helmets off. The Iron Bull was busy removing the top half of his suit, clearly eager to be his usual half-naked self, and scratching absent mindedly under his eye patch. Edric hadn’t switched off the sending crystal connection to Varric.

“We’re all good, captain,” Varric told him, “They’re not – repeat not – following us,”

“Close one…” Edric muttered.

“Any one you walk away from, right boss?” The Iron Bull answered, grinning “We got the goods. I call this a win.”

Edric nodded, clearly unconvinced, “Right… we win…”


	3. Chapter 3

It was not long before the crew gathered in the cargo hold, eager to see their ‘winnings’. They watched as Edric opened one of the crates, and they looked down upon the glittering engraved runes, looking ancient and unfamiliar.

“There they are,” Edric said proudly. Elvhen magic was still only a little understood, and they currently held one of the biggest collections of elvhen artefacts salvaged on the outer rim in recent memory. Someone would pay a pretty penny for goods like these – more efficient than anything Tevinter had yet been able to create one of these runes alone could power a small family house for three months before it needed recharging.

“They’re awfully pretty,” Dagna said peering over Edric’s shoulder.

“You said it Tinkers. I’d say worth a little risk,” Varric agreed.

“Yeah, some pretty risky sitting you did there,” the Iron Bull grinned to show he was joking.

“That’s right, Tiny, of course,” Varric said, rolling his eyes, “Cause they wouldn’t arrest me if we got boarded. I could always just say I was flying the ship by accident. You know they’re –“

Edric wasn’t really listening, examining the runes thoughtfully. He ran his fingers over some ridges he kept seeing on the artefacts, over and over, and clearly not part of the original design. _Kaffas_ …

“ _Tacete_!” Edric ordered, irritated by the banter.

Cass frowned, “Problem, ser?”

“Couldn’t say,” he lied, “but we best be getting rid of these before we run into another Imperial patrol.” He replaced the lid of the crate, and the group began to break up – all of them had plenty to do.

“What are Vints doing out this far anyhow?” the Iron Bull grumbled, as he moved to stow the crates away in the hidden compartments toward the back of the cargo hold.

“Shining the light of civilisation and magical advancement on the outer rim planets!” Dagna replied cheerily, going to help him. The Iron Bull laughed as the tiny dwarf started to push the boxes to him, throwing her whole weight into it; really the only way the little red headed artificer could move the heavy crates.

Edric followed Cass and Varric to the stairs, looking thoughtful “How long till we reach Kirkwall?” he asked.

“Three or four hours,” Varric replied

“Can we shave that?”

Varric shook his head, “We’re down to the wire on power crystals, and they start to get awful unstable at low charge. We run too high we might not make it…”

Edric nodded, “play it as close as you can. This catch is burning a hole in my hull,”

Cass’s worried frown deepened, “You think the cruiser might have ID’d us?”

“Let’s hope not. Varric, contact Harlan, tell him the job’s done.” Varric nodded moving to do just that, but Edric called after him in a low voice “Don’t need to mention the cruiser though. Keep it simple” Varric paused, looking concerned, but only nodded again and started back to the cockpit.

Cass turned to him “Ser are you sure there’s no problem with –“

“It’s fine,” Edric cut his second off, “I just want to get paid,”

Cass didn’t seem to believe that any more than Varric did, but turned to go up into the main ship anyway.

“Alright!” Edric said, turning to his enchanter and bodyguard, “how we doing getting these crates stowed? I don’t want any tourists stumbling over them.”

The Iron Bull raised an eyebrow at him, turning only slightly from where he was busy stowing cargo away. Dagna looked up with a cheery grin, pausing in her slow progress across the floor. “We’re taking on passengers at Kirkwall?”

“That’s the notion,” Edric told her, moving to help her move the crates. The two dwarves were much closer in size than they were to the hulking mass that was the qunari Iron Bull, so it was far easier to shift the crates between them. “Could use a little respectability on the way to Ferelden. Not to mention the money.”

“And the pain in the ass…” The Bull complained. He was grumpy today, Edric noticed, the Bull usually liked new people.

“No it’s shiny!” Dagna declared happily, “I like to meet new people, they’ve all got stories…”

The Iron Bull’s mouth quirked fondly as he accepted the crate from the two dwarfs and shoved it into the hold. “Boss, can you stop her from being so cheery please,”

Edric laughed, “I don’t believe there’s a power in the ‘verse that would stop our Dagna from being cheerful. Sometimes you just want to duct tape her mouth shut and dump her in the hold for a month!”

Dagna just smiled, and gave a little bow, “I love my captain,”

Edric smiled, looking pleased with himself, as the Iron Bull’s booming laugh echoed in the cargo bay.

***

“I know something isn’t right,” Cass said to Varric as they made their way through the halls.

“Sweetie, we’re crooks. If all were right we’d be in jail!”

“It’s just that the captain’s so tense…” she replied, and then after a pause, “and stop calling me sweetie,”

“The man needs a break,” Varric responded, “In fact I think we could all use a couple of days leave,”

“We still need to drop the goods.”

“And after that we’ll fly off to Ferelden, rich and prosperous! Well… less poor, but with enough to find a nice little getaway in Redcliffe somewhere,” he said as they went into the cockpit and he sat down in the pilot’s seat.

Cass thought about it for a while, considering the merits of this plan, “I could sure use a real bath”

“Rose petals, romance novels, a meal with real food,” Varric purred, taking Cass’ hand and pulling her to him.

“Well, I suppose. If the captain says it’s alright,”

Varric dropped her hand, looking disgruntled, “Here’s a crazy idea, what if we just _tell_ Edric we need a couple of days instead of just asking him,”

“He’s the captain, Varric”

“Right, right, and I’m just the… the…” he floundered here. Their relationship was still fairly new, and he wasn’t rightly sure what they were.

“Look, I’ll ask him!”

Varric sighed theatrically “Don’t forget to call him ‘Ser’. He likes that.”

“Who likes what?” Edric said, appearing suddenly in the doorway.

Cass immediately became straighter, expression harder, “It’s nothing, Ser,” and then proceeded to try and both ignore Varric and scowl at him when he started giving her the thumbs up where Edric couldn’t see.

“Ok…” Edric answered, “has the ambassador checked in yet?”

“Ruffles? Nah” Varric said, “I think she had a pretty full… docket…”

“Well after you talk to Harlan, let her know we may be leaving Kirkwall in a hurry,”

“Josephine has our timetable,” Cass said, “she should be checking in,”

“I can tell her to cut it short. Meet us at the docks,” Varric offered.

“No, no!” Edric said hurriedly, “Don’t want to get in her way if we don’t have to.” He turned away, making his way back down into the main part of the ship, “Someone on this boat has to make an honest living,”


	4. Chapter 4

Heavy drapes in gold and red complimented the musky perfume, red silk sheets, and tasselled cushions. The shuttle was small, but opulent in its decoration, turning it from a meagre living space into a luxurious hideaway for client and ambassador both.

“Ahh,” Josephine sighed, feeling the man inside her start to speed up, and she arched against him, simultaneously giving him a better angle and pressing her body against his. He gasped, movements becoming slightly jerky against her. “Oh Maker,” she breathed for effect, hearing the change in his voice before she felt him spasm within her.

He held still for a moment, her hands running lightly down his back before pulling away. Josephine smiled.

Later they talked, Josephine now dressed in an elegant blue dressing gown that covered her almost completely, while simultaneously looking relaxed and reminding her client of their recent activities together. Everything was arranged to perfection.

“Nevarra isn’t that different from this planet actually,” she tilted her head and adopted a slightly wistful smile, “More crowded, of course, and I guess more complicated,” she looked into the distance, pretending she was unaware of the man’s worshipful gaze as he hung on her words. “The great Nevarra City itself is… well, pictures can’t capture it. It’s like an ocean of light,”

“Is that where you studied? To be a bard?” the man asked.

“I was born there,” she told him.

He looked away, considering, “I can’t imagine ever leaving,”

Josephine was too practiced to let the tightness in her smile show, “well, I wanted to see the universe,”

“Do you… really have to leave?” he asked suddenly.

Josephine only smiled indulgently.

“I mean I – my father is very influential. We could – I could arrange for you to be more than…” he trailed off, embarrassed. Josephine only continued to smile kindly.

The time ended quickly. The young man once more dressed again in his strict uniform, the illusion of intimacy broken by the formal dress.

“The experience has been more than –“ he began in stilted tones, “It was very good.” He settled for.

Josephine inclined her head gracefully, “the time went too quickly,”

“Well, your clock’s probably rigged to speed up and cheat us out of our fun,”

It was meant as a joke, but it fell flat, Josephine’s delicate smile fading instantly.

The man had the grace to look embarrassed, and turned to leave without another word. Josephine waited until the shuttle door had closed, and then went over to the cockpit, throwing back the curtains and letting the light in. She sat down, prepping the craft for launch, and activating her sending crystal.

“Skyhold, this is shuttle one, what’s your ETA?”

“Ruffles, hey,” came Varric’s voice, “we’re touching down at the docks in about ten minutes,”

“Ok, I will meet you there,”

“Looking forward to it, we missed you out here,”

“Thank you, Varric,” Josephine smiled as she started take off procedure, “me too,”

***

The city docks of Kirkwall were a melting pot of cultures from across the known galaxy, perhaps more so than any other settlement. Ferelden labourers who had settled there after fleeing a Blight over two decades ago dominated the shipyards, gangs of Tal Vashoth mercenaries roamed the streets, throwing hostile glances at the Coterie dwarves who dominated underworld trade. As many of the nobility of Kirkwall were Orlesian as from the Free Planets, though one wouldn’t see very many of them at the docks. The architecture was distinctly Tevene, but if was rare to find many from Tevinter in the city.

Edric strolled out of Skyhold, breathing in his first unprocessed air in days, Dagna trotting beside him. “This shouldn’t take too long,” he told her, “put us down for departure in about three hours. Varric!” he shouted back, “Grab any supplies we’re low on and fill up on Lyrium,”

“I’d love to find a brand new stabilisation crystal for the power room,” Dagna said, activating the dock self-service panel and starting the registration.

“Yeah, and I’d like to be the Herald of Andraste, and wear a shiny hat like the Devine.” Edric muttered, “just get us some passengers. Them as can pay, alright?”

“If the stabilisation crystal blows we’re drifting,” Dagna said disapprovingly, uncharacteristically serious.

Edric gave her a look “Best not blow then,” he said simply, turning back toward the ship.

Cass and the Iron Bull walked alongside a trailer driven by Varric, coming over to meet him. Edric nodded, starting up the dusty street toward Darktown.

“Cassandra!” Varric shouted out as his paramour turned to leave, stopping the shabby, rusted yellow vehicle to talk to her. She paused, turning toward him. “ _Hic est periculosus. Cavete_ ,” he said.

Cass smiled, her normally hard expression softening, “We will,” she promised, then turned to follow her captain and the Iron Bull.

***

A woman with eyes older than her face made her way through the bustling streets; a small backpack was all she carried, and the only things to her name within it. She took in the chaos of the street food sellers, street entertainers… and street walkers. All trying to catch the attention of the passers-by. It had been many years since she had walked these streets, but there was something very alive about them. The shouts of merchants hawking their wares, the sizzling of dubious looking meat and enticing smell as it barbequed. Here were people. Here was life.

“You going on a trip, auntie?” a voice from behind startled her, and she looked to see a shabbily dressed man (though quite well dressed for the area truth be told) assessing her.

“You need safe passage? We’re cheap. We’re clean. The Brutus? Best ship in the ‘verse. What’s your des, auntie? Come on. We’re hitting the outer rings.”

The woman surveyed the ship critically, then the man, and then the road ahead, “I uh, don’t have siblings,” she said cryptically.

“What?”

“I’m not an aunt” she said by way of explanation, and continued on her way.

***

The low ceilings of Darktown never failed to make Edric feel claustrophobic. And he was a dwarf. What must the Iron Bull feel he wondered!

Coterie muscle guarded doorways as they made their way through. There were a rather large number of snipers milling about too, which Edric knew to be the real danger of starting anything with Coterie. They always had back up. They stopped when a large human man barred their way with his rifle at the entrance to Harlan’s ‘office’. Harlan who was busy with another appointment by the looks of things.

“Let me see your teeth,” Harlan said to the passably pretty, but ultimately unremarkable girl who stood before him. Submissively she bared her teeth, and Harlan pulled back her lips slightly to see the gums more clearly. “yes,” he nodded to the man next to her. A slave trader? Or just another flesh broker for the Blooming Rose? Edric was never quite sure, and he didn’t ask. He didn’t want the moral dilemma of _knowing_ Harlan bought and sold slaves. The man smiled and shoved the girl toward the other door. She stumbled slightly, but didn’t complain. Harlan turned away, “You’re late,” he snapped at them, nodding to his bodyguard that they could enter.

“You’re lying,” Edric shot back, strolling in confidently.

“What did you just say to me?” Harlan demanded, stroking idly at his face where heavy facial tattoos marked him as casteless.

Edric shrugged, coming to stand in the centre of the room, Cass and the Iron Bull either side of him. “You’re well aware we landed two hours before we planned to. With all the goods you sent us after intact and ready to roll. It was your decision to get tetchy, say we’re late, mean’s you’re looking to put us on the defensive right up front. Which means something’s gone wrong. It didn’t go wrong on our end, so why don’t we start again with you telling us what’s up?” he finished smugly, smiling at the Coterie boss.

Harlan smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile, “You’re later than I’d like,”

“Well I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You’d gotten here sooner you might have beaten the bulletin saying, ‘rogue vessel, classification Champion, was spotted pulling illegal salvage on a derelict transport.”

Edric didn’t flinch, “Didn’t ID us. Doesn’t lead to you,”

“No it doesn’t,” Harlan agreed, “but a government stamp on every piece of the cargo just maybe might.”

Edric could feel Cass bristling beside him. He should know better by now than to lie to Cassandra Pentaghast really, but what’s done was done, and he hadn’t needed her worrying that this exact thing might happen. Harlan saw Edric’s expression, “Oh, you noticed that? You were going to hand over imprinted goods and just let me twist? Is that it?”

“We didn’t pick the cargo,” Edric growled.

“And I didn’t flash my arse at the stone forsaken law!” Harlan’s voice was raised now. “There’s no deal,”

“That isn’t fair!” Cass said with narrowed eyes.

Harlan rolled his eyes, “Crime and politics little girl – situation is always… fluid,”

The Iron Bull grunted, “The only fluid I see here is a puddle of piss refusing to pay us our wage,”

Edric didn’t see who went for their gun first, but suddenly Harlan was on his feet and every Coterie in the room had their weapons trained on them. He glanced at the Iron Bull, hand on his own gun, and clearly doing the calculations. He was good, Edric knew, but not that good. Eventually the Iron Bull muttered ‘Vashedan’ under his breath and then slid his gun back into its holster.

Edric smiled at Harlan, who was suddenly watching them very carefully, “It doesn’t have to go this way,” he said, approaching the other dwarf. “You know you can still unload those goods, so I can’t help thinking there’s something else at work here.”

Harlan snorted humourlessly, “What were you in the war? That big war you left the Carta for and then failed to win? You were a Sergeant yeah? Sergeant Edric Cadash. Balls and bayonets brigade. Big touch veteran,” he continued, smiling nastily at Cass, “Now you’ve got yourself a ship and you’re a captain. But I think, you’re still a sergeant see. Still a soldier. Man of honour in a den of thieves. Well this is my stone forsaken den. And I don’t much like the way you look down on me. I’m above you, better than!” Harlan straightened himself “I’m a business man, see. Roots in the community of this fine city. You are just a scavenger.”

“I may not be a Paragon of virtue like yourself, with your very fine… guild. But I do business. We’re here for business.”

“Try one of the border planets. They’re a lot more desperate there. Course, they might kill you. But you stay here, and I just know the Imperium will track you down,”

Edric seethed, but he clearly wasn’t getting anything out of Harlan. “The stone has a long memory, Harlan,” he said over his shoulder as he left.

Harlan rolled his eyes “That only matters to people who’ve never been topside,”


	5. Chapter 5

The woman with experienced eyes looked out over the docklands, surveying all the ships docked there. So many to choose from. And she could pick any one of them.

She smiled. She had almost forgotten this kind of freedom.

“You’re going to come with us,” said a cheerful voice behind her. Seemed to be her day for that. She turned to see a little red headed dwarf, playing catch with what appeared to be a bit of raw lyrium… It was good to know who was completely mad around the place, she supposed.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“You like ships. You don’t seem to be looking at the destinations. What you care about is the ships and mine’s the nicest!” she grinned.

She looked up at the old cargo ship, faded paintwork, and patchwork repairs visible even from here. “She doesn’t look like much,”

The dwarf woman grinned, “She’ll fool ya. You ever sail in a Champion?”

The woman inclined her head, “Long before you I wager.” Then she pointed to the extenders, “Didn’t have the upgrades though, made it a bit unstable, tended to shake,”

The dwarf leapt up to her feet and bounded over, looking up at her still grinning widely, “So how come you don’t care where you’re going?”

“Sometimes how you get there is the worthier part,”

The dwarf looked her over, taking in the Chantry symbol embroidered into her overcoat. “You aren’t a Chanter… Are you a missionary?”

“I suppose you could say that,” the woman agreed, shaking her pack off her back and laying it on the ground, “I’m a sister from the Chantry at Lothering, Leliana. I’m called Leliana.” she held out her hand, and the dwarf accepted happily, giving her hand a firm shake. “I’ve been on assignment at the Kirkwall Chantry, but before that I’d been out of the world for a spell, and being back in the city reminded me I need to walk it a while. Maybe bring the chant of light to those who need to hear it most,”

“Well I’m Dagna,” the dwarf woman said, and then gestured to the ship behind her, “And this here is Skyhold, and she’s the smoothest ride from here to Ferelden for them as can pay,” she paused meaningfully, “Can you? Pay?”

Leliana smiled, and bent down to rummage in her pack, “Well, I have a little money, and also –“ she pulled out a little wooden box and opened it just enough for Dagna to see inside without drawing attention.

Dagna peered curiously, and Leliana saw her expression change, “Oh,” she breathed, and looked up at Leliana, “auntie,”

Leliana frowned, “I don’t have sibings,”

***

“Not sure I understand why we didn’t beat that son of a dathrasi over the head till he paid us our due,” the Iron Bull grumbled, following behind Edric. They were taking a fairly slow pace, Edric still thinking through their next move.

“We’d be dead,” Edric argued, “We can’t get paid if we’re dead,”

The Iron Bull snorted, “Bah, we coulda taken ‘em. And I’ve got a share in this job. Ten percent of nothing is, now let me do the math here…”

Cass spoke up next, “So we find a buyer on Ferelden, there’s got to be –“

Edric shook his head, “Ferelden is too big, and it’s crawling with Tevinters. They could even be waiting for us,”

“You think Harlan would sell us out to the Venatori?”

“If he hasn’t already,” Edric replied, glancing nervously at the Venatori outfitted city guards keeping the peace on the docks.

“The Imperium catches us with Empire goods we’ll lose the ship,” Cass reminded him.

“That’s not going to happen,” Edric reassured her.

“Ser, we could just dump the cargo.”

“No,” The Iron Bull cut in firmly, “We haven’t had a job in weeks. We need coin. Hard cash. Not –“

“You’re right” Edric interrupted, turning to Cass, “the last two jobs we had were weak tea. We got nothing saved, and taking on passengers won’t help near enough. We don’t get paid for this job we won’t have enough money for Lyrium, let alone replace runes and crystals. Skyhold will be dead in the water,”

“So we do like Harlan said, the border planets?” Cass asked.

Edric nodded, “I’m thinking Montsimmard, maybe talk to Madame de Fer,”

Cass shook her head, “Ser, we don’t want to deal with Madame de Fer,”

“Why not?”

“She froze you. In actual ice.”

“Well, yeah, she did a bit. Still –“

“So we find somebody else. Seggrit,”

“He can’t afford it,” Bull replied in a dull tone.

“Farris,”

“He wouldn’t touch it,” Bull replied, “I need to go through the list? Barnabus is brain-blown, Gertude is dead,”

“Gertrude is dead?” Cass said in surprise.

The Bull nodded grimly, “The Emerald Graves were hit by Darkspawn,”

Cass closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer to Andraste. Edric looked considering “We’re not going anywhere near Dawkspawn territory, those creatures aren’t natural,”

“Captain, ain’t wrong about Ma’am. Montsimmard is the safest and the closest.” Bull argued.

Cass quirked her lip in amusement at Bull still calling Madame de Fer ‘Ma’am’. Apparently she really did intimidate him. But then went back to looking worried.

Edric sought to reassure her, “Hey, it’s been a long time since Vivienne froze me, and that was due to a perfectly legitimate conflict of interest. I got no grudge. She owns half that damn moon now, though Maker knows how she pulled that one off. She can afford what we got, and might just need it.”

Cass shook her head, but she was laughing now, “I still don’t think the mage is the way,”

“I’m not saying it won’t be tricky, but we got no choices,”

They rounded the corner, making their way up the steps and onto the main docks. Edric glanced at the Kirkwall crest fluttering in the breeze, looming over the sea of people around them. He was glad to be back in the sunlight, what little there was, and out of the perpetual gloom that made up the covered slums of Darktown. Though they may not look it compared to the cities of the Central Planets, the people living on this level and in Lowtown were actually relatively well off. They had jobs after all.

The three of them made their way through the crowds toward Skyhold. Bull found it easy, most people skirting around him. The people of Kirkwall were no stranger to Qunari – which was of course why they gave him such a wide berth. Edric, small in stature as he was compared to the multitudes of humans and elves, kept behind the Bull. It was easier than trying to remind everyone to look down and get out of his way all the time.

He could see Dagna doing a little bow as they drew close, welcoming aboard what he hoped were paying passengers. “Welcome aboard Mr…”

“Samson,” answered a medium height, medium build, mousy haired man, clutching his small pack and ducking into the hold.

“Samson,” Dagna smiled. Uninteresting, Edric thought, dismissing the man in his mind.

“We gotta keep our heads down,” Edric told Cass, “Do the job, and pray there aren’t any more surprises,”

Sadly that wasn’t to be. No sooner had he said it but Varric drove past carrying a large metal box, and after he passed the first thing that Edric saw was a Tevinter Altus, watching with all the entitled air of self-importance the Alti were known for. The man was immaculately groomed, moustache waxed, hair combed and shining, khol lining his eyes, and asymmetrical clothing that screamed a) tailored and b) designer. What, by the paragons, was this pampered pretty boy doing in Kirkwall?

“Edric, this is Dorian,” Dagna interrupted his reverie, “Dorian this is our captain,”

“Captain Cadash,” Dorian greeted with an easy smile that did not put Edric at ease in the slightest, “May I say what a great pleasure it is to be travelling with your fine crew,”

Edric did a barely perceptible double-take, “Welcome aboard,” he said simply, walking past Dagna and onto the ship.

The Iron Bull came close behind, bending down to murmur in his ear, “Careful, the pretty ones are always the worst.”

Edric gave Bull a half smile and went over to where Cass was chatting to Varric as he turned the trailer into the best position for sliding off the metal box onto the floor of the ship.

“Please be careful with that!” came a sharp order from the Altus.

The other passengers were busy making sure their personal effects were safely stowed away, Edric noted there were a couple of others, but didn’t look too closely. Cass nodded when he came close, brushing her fingers briefly over Varric’s arm before turning to Edric. “So,” she said in a low voice, “Now we have a boat full of citizens, right on top of our… stolen cargo. That’s a fun mix,”

“No way could they find that compartment even if they were looking for it,”

“Why not?”

That question took Edric by surprise. There was a reason… but all he came up with was, “…’cause…”

Cass raised an eyebrow at him, “Oh, this is going to go fantastically.”

“Well, anyone gets nosy, shoot ‘em,”

“Shoot ‘em?”

“Politely,”

***

Josephine circled round the Skyhold, activating the sending crystal as she drew close.

“Ruffles, just in time,” Varric greeted her.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, “We’re in a hurry,”

“Looks like. Starboard hatch, green for docking,”

Josephine shook her head and manoeuvred the shuttle into position, “Locked in five, four, three, two, one.”

Josephine felt the shuttle jolt as the locking runes flared to life and pulled the shuttle securely into its hatch. Josephine shut down the shuttles systems and sat back. _Home for now_ , she thought.


	6. Chapter 6

“Meals are taken up here in the dining area. Kitchen is pretty much self-explanatory. You’re welcome to eat whatever, whenever. It’s pretty standard fare, mostly processed protein in one form or another. We do have sit down meals, the next one being 1800.”

“I think Sister Leliana has offered to help me prepare something,” Dagna interrupted the briefing taking place in the kitchen. The guests were all gathered, and Edric was giving the mandatory spiel about house rules and so forth. It was the most homely looking place in Skyhold, Josephine and Dagna had worked together on it, creating a brightly coloured and yet still somehow understated living space, with scavenged wooden tables and chairs, and blue patterns decorating yellow painted walls. And to keep the Iron Bull happy there was a wall the colour of Dawnstone, the slightly shiny pink still made Edric shake his head when he thought of the Bull insisting ‘it’s pretty’ as though it was a threat.

Edric nodded at Dagna, and then looked at the red headed woman curiously, “You’re a Chantry sister?” he asked.

“I thought the outfit gave it away,” she replied smoothly, then tilted her head, considering Edric’s expression, which looked decidedly cold “Is it a problem?”

“Of course not.” Dagna said quickly, “It’s no problem, because… because it’s not!”

Edric gave her a black look, but pushed aside his general animosity toward the Chantry. A church that had denounced the Inquisition when they stood up against the Imperium. “No. As I said, you’re welcome in here at any time. Apart from that I have to ask you to stay in the passenger dorm while we’re in flight,”

At this the Altus looked up, frowning.

“The bridge, cargo bay, power room, all off limits without an escort,”

“Some of my personal effects are in the cargo bay” the Altus said.

“I figured you all got luggage you need to get into. As soon as we’re done here we’ll be happy to fetch them with you.” Edric dismissed the concern quickly, “Now, I have to tell you all one other thing, and I apologise in advance for the inconvenience. Unfortunately, we have been ordered by the Imperium to drop some magical equipment and supplies off at Montsimmard. It’s the forth system in Orlais, and the furthest out. It’s a little out of our way, but we should have you in Ferelden no more than a day off schedule.”

“What magical supplies?” the Altus asked.

Edric resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I honestly didn’t ask.”

The Altus, Dorian, frowned. Obviously this answer hadn’t been satisfactory somehow. Cass spoke up instead, “Probably Lyrium, blank rune plates – whatever they haven’t got enough of on the border moons,”

“Imperium says jump –“ Edric offered by way of explanation.

“Alright,” Dorian answered. He didn’t sound like it was alright.

“Cass, you want to take them to the cargo bay?” Edric said, choosing to ignore that bit of weirdness.

“Yes, Ser,”

“Anything else you need, just ask.” Edric added as those in attendance filed out of the kitchen. Varric trotted down the steps from the crew quarters, coming over to meet Edric. Edric nodded at him by way of greeting, “You send word to Madame de Fer?”

“Not heard back from the Iron Lady yet,” Varric replied cheerfully, “Didn’t she freeze you one time?”

“Everyone’s making a fuss!” Edric exclaimed, throwing his hands up as they turned back toward the cockpit.

***

Edric watched as their guests collected their belongings. So far, from what he’d observed, Samson was clumsy as a nug, stumbling over crates, over Dorian, over door frames, and apologising every other second for the missteps. Dorian, the Altus, was fastidious and careful, and flirted horribly with everyone wearing a smile that Edric did not trust at all. The sister just wanted to be liked, undoubtedly so the crew might be more receptive to the chant of light or whatever, but there was a hard edge to her gaze too. Said sister was now coming up the steps to where he and Dagna waited and handing Dagna a box and sack, which Dagna seemed excessively excited about. He wondered for a second if she had accepted payment in stabilisation crystals, but the bag was the wrong shape for that.

Hearing footsteps from above Edric turned toward shuttle one to see Josephine descending, her usual gold and blue ruffled dress and neatly braided hair was as immaculately put together as Dorian’s outfit, but he minded it far less in the lady ambassador. He never quite understood how even ‘roughing it’ on a dirty cargo ship on the outer rim, Josephine still managed perfect hair, perfect make-up. She had to in her line of work, he supposed.

“Ah!” he cried, “the ambassador graces us with her presence,”

“Hello Edric,” Josephine descended the steps gracefully. She did everything gracefully. “I see we have some new faces,”

“Hey you,” Dagna smiled. Josephine replied in kind, fondly.

“Ambassador, this is Sister Leliana,” Edric introduced them.

“I’d have to say this is the first time we’ve had a Chantry sister on board,”

“Well, I was not expecting to see a state official either,” Leliana replied pleasantly, “Ambassador,” she gave a graceful bow.

Edric chuckled.

Leliana frowned, “Is something funny?”

“Not so funny,” Dagna said, looking disapproving.

Josephine gave a resigned sigh, “Ambassador is Edric’s way of –“

“She’s a whore, sister,” Edric said, far too happily.

“The term is bard, which is not at all the same as a prostitute,” Dagna corrected gravely.

“I always get those mixed up!” Edric replied brightly, “How’s business?” he asked Josephine.

“None of yours, Captain.” She responded coldly.

Edric turned to Sister Leliana “She is pretty much our ambassador. Plenty of planets wouldn’t let us dock without a decent bard aboard.” He smiled in mock surprise, “This isn’t a problem for you is it sister?”

“Well, I – I –“ Sister Leliana stuttered.

“It’s alright,” Josephine interrupted, “I mostly keep to myself.” She gave Edric a serious glare as she turned away. “When I’m not whoring,”

“Don’t you want to meet the rest of the bunch?” Edric called after her.

“Why don’t you make sure they want to meet me first?” Josephine replied before heading up the stairs with Dagna. Leliana watched them leave, her face just a little green. Edric laughed internally; he’d thought to play with the sister a little, but she looked positively ill! Not a worldly woman then.

***

Back in the kitchen Dagna placed the bags Sister Leliana had given her on the counter.

She glanced at the door behind her, and seeing that no one was around she opened the little wooden box that the Chantry sister had shown her before, and ever so carefully removed a single strawberry. She held it by the stem and turned it, taking in first the colour and shape, red and ripe, she smiled as she inhaled the scent. It was not like the synthetic scent from shampoo or cake flavouring, it was fresher than that, and more subtle. Then, drawing out the moment, she bit into it slowly, her eyes fluttering. The juice slid over her tongue, and she sucked slightly to keep it from spilling over her lips when she pulled the other half away. Soft and sweet, it slid down her throat, and she could still taste the lingering sweetness.

She smiled blissfully to herself.

***

“I am starving!” declared The Iron Bull, helping himself to large portions of the food spread out before them.

Grilled tomatoes, roasted vegetables, scrambled egg, mash made with real potatoes and even butter – more fresh food than the crew of Skyhold had seen all year.

“This is incredible!” enthused Cass, adding some tomato to her plate and practically dancing back to her seat.

“It is great!” Edric agreed, reassessing his view of the sister just a little.

“It is not much,” Leliana replied humbly “There was a garden at Kirkwall Chantry. I thought I should bring what I could,”

“It is most kind of you to share it with all of us,” Dorian said, with a genuine smile.

“It won’t last, and they’re not the same when they’re frozen,”

“The important thing is the spices,” Dagna added happily, “anyone can live on packaged food from here till the Maker returns if they have enough rosemary. Thankfully Sister Leliana has some!”

The sister smiled at her new found companion.

“So does it happen a lot?” Dorian asked suddenly, addressing Edric, “the Magisterium commandeering your ship, telling you where to go?”

“That’s what Vints are for. Getting in a man’s way,” Edric replied. Dorian narrowed his eyes, meeting the challenge in Edric’s gaze. The Altus then proceeded to look studiously uninterested, checking his meticulously shaped nails for dirt and taking a dainty bite of food with a practiced nonchalance. Edric seethed.

“Well it’s good if the supplies are needed,” Samson offered. Edric fought not to roll his eyes – a boring opinion from a thoroughly boring man.

“We’re just happy to be aiding the Circles of the Imperium in the advancement of the science of magic,” the Iron Bull replied, and amused twinkle in his eye.

“I hear a lot of the border moons are in bad shape, plagues and famine. Wouldn’t leave much time for serious study of the arcane.” Dorian commented.

“Well, some of it’s exaggerated and some of it’s not,” Cass explained, “All those moons, just like the central planets, they’re as close to Thedas that was as we can make them, gravity, atmosphere and such, but –“

“Once they’re terraformed, they’ll dump settlers on there with nothing but blankets, hatchets. Maybe a herd,” Edric interrupted bitterly, “Some of them make it. Some of them –“

“Well, then it’s good we’re helping bring modern technologies to the people there,” Dorian concluded.

Edric shrugged, “Montsimmard is well off though. Biggest circle on the outer rim after Calenhad, and gaining political power at a rate of knots. I guess it’s becoming increasingly difficult for the Vint circles to ignore.”

“You’re a mage right?” Dagna asked.

It took Dorian a moment to realise he’d been spoken to. “Oh, yes, quite. I held the rank of Enchanter at the Circle of Minrathous on Tevinter.”

“Long way from here” Edric mused.

“You seem pretty young to have the rank of enchanter,” the Iron Bull noted.

“Yes well,” Dorian looked uncomfortable, “I happen to be spectacularly gifted. I suppose I shouldn’t admit that to a Qunari – you’d much rather see me bound and leashed. Neutralise the threat.”

“Vint,” Edric growled, “You will keep a civil tongue in that mouth of yours or I will sew it shut, never mind about the Tal Vashoth at the table,” a racial slur of some kind had been inevitable. Tevinter mages in particular had a hard time with Qunari. An awkward silence followed, and Dorian’s expression went studiously blank.

Then the Iron Bull chuckled, and fixed Dorian with an intense one-eyed stare, “Hey, I’d buy you dinner first,”

Dorian spluttered, clearly completely at a loss for what to say. Leliana blushed, but couldn’t quite hide the grin and surprised laugh that slipped out, while Varric and Dagna cackled. Edric blinked, but then joined in the laughter at the table.

The Iron Bull gave Dorian a mean grin, and then helped himself to some more food and stood up. “I’d best be going, boss, you don’t pay me to cause a ruckus at the dinner table!” he said it with a laugh, but Edric couldn’t help but wonder if it was the Iron Bull’s misguided attempt to keep the peace. Edric would much rather Dorian left, but the man seemed to have taken the warning to heart and slipped into a mortified silence. Though that was probably more the unexpected bondage talk.

There was a pause once the Bull left, and then Dorian asked slowly “What do you pay him for?”

“What?” Edric asked, unsure what Dorian was referring to.

“I’m just wondering what his job is. On the ship,” he gestured to the room, clearly implying that a small cargo vessel didn’t seem to have any particular use for a horned giant with one eye, who didn’t seem to care much for shirts and looked like he could snap all of them in half if he wanted.

“Public relations,” Edric replied, without missing a beat.

***

The water was cooling as it ran over her back, and Josephine sighed, feeling the water and gentle pressure of the sponge soothing her tired muscles. It had been a very long day.

 “Veni!” Josephine called, hearing a soft knock at the door.

The Chantry sister walked in, immediately halting when she saw the half-undressed bard. “If I am intruding –“ she began to turn away.

“Not at all,” Josephine replied, pulling her sari over herself so that her breasts were fully covered. “I expected you,”

Leliana chuckled, “I couldn’t really say the same,”

“So, would you like to lecture me in the wickedness of my ways,” Josephine asked, standing to face her.

“I brought you some food,” Leliana replied with a sardonic smile, “but if you’d prefer a lecture I’m peculiarly suited to the task. You are not the first bard I have met. Would you like me to tell you how the last bard I knew died?”

Josephine was not quite sure how to respond to that, but she recovered herself enough to say, “I think I’ll pass,” Leliana offered her the tray, which Josephine accepted gratefully, “But thank you for this,”

Leliana inclined her head, “The captain said you might like it. I was surprised at his concern,”

“For a lowly whore?”

There was a strange hardness in Leliana’s tone when she next spoke, “we both know full well that is not what you are,” then a little softer, “though I imagine this far from the Grand Game, where life is so much simpler, those particular skills are useful, no? One must make a living somehow,”

Josephine chuckled, moving over to a pile of gold and red tasselled cushions which she started throwing over onto the couch, the soft thudding a backdrop to the conversation. “Believe me, the politics of the outer rim can be just as vicious. But I suppose simpler in their way too. Bards are somewhat romanticised out here, and that romanticism loosens tongues.” Josephine’s lips quirked in amusement, “working on ones back can be very profitable in ways that they would never be in Antiva or the central systems of Orlais,”

Leliana chuckled slightly, “Yes, I can’t imagine many experienced players falling for a honeypot. At least not one they’re paying!”

Josephine looked directly at Leliana and gave her a considering look, “you speak as if you know,”

“If you hadn’t noticed from my accent, I am Orlesian. Word of the bards get around. Besides, the Chantry is hardly immune from politics,”

“Then I must offer my apologies. Here was I thinking you a sheltered little mouse from Lothering. I must be slipping,”

Leliana only replied with a secretive smile and bowed before leaving the Ambassador to herself.


	7. Chapter 7

Edric lay back on his bunk, staring up at the grey bulkhead as he considered his next steps. There had still been no word from Vivienne de Fer in Montsimmard. If she did not take the goods they would have to find someone else, but his contacts in Ferelden were few and far between. He wondered idly if Josephine might have some leads. But no. He’d avoided dragging her into criminal dealings up to now, he wasn’t about to start.

The sending crystal by the door buzzed, “Captain! You might want to get up here!” Varric’s voice came through over the channel. Edric was up in a second; if Varric sounded worried, you didn’t question it. He climbed up the ladder out of his quarters and jogged down the corridor and up the steps to the cockpit.

“What is it?” he demanded.

“A signal,” Varric replied, his worry palpable, “Somebody activated our sending crystal network and sent a message to the nearest Tevinter cruiser,”

“Tell me you scrambled it,” Edric begged.

“I did, of course I did, but I don’t know how much got through. Imperium’s got a location on us for sure.”

“Festi bei umo canavarum,” Edric muttered.

“We got a mole on board,” Varric said grimly. Edric looked up, suddenly seeing the situation very clearly. He knew exactly who sent that message. Without a word he turned, sprinting toward the guest quarters, flinging open the door to Dorian’s room. An absolutely insane number of bottles, brushes, and outfits littered the room, a nice little bit of insight into just how much work that effortlessly perfect look took, but the Altus himself was nowhere to be seen. Growling to himself Edric headed for the cargo bay.

Sure enough, Dorian was there, crouched in front of the large silver box Varric had brought aboard. Dorian stood up, halting abruptly when he came face to face with the enraged captain.

“Forget your fancy eyeliner?” Edric asked sarcastically, and without warning swung a punch directly into Dorian’s stomach.

Dorian gave a strangled cry, doubling over and wheezing. He coughed a couple of times and stared at Edric in disbelief, “Are you out of your dwarven mind?!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, just about,” Edric replied, “what did you tell them?”

Dorian straightened up, looking alarmed, “tell who?”

Edric drew his gun, pointing it meaningfully at Dorian, “I got exactly no time for games. What do they know?”

Dorian’s baffled frown deepened, and he began to look slightly panicked, “You’re a lunatic,”

“And you’re Venatori,”

“I hate to say it, captain,” came a voice from the side, and Leliana walked calmly into view, her light Orlesian accent careful and precise. “But you’ve got the wrong man.”

Edric looked confused, studying the sister. Was she admitting to being Venatori? But she’d said wrong ‘man’. So… Leliana indicated the stairs down into the hold with a flick of her head, and slowly Edric turned to see Samson with a gun trained on his head.

“Son of a bitch,” Edric swore. He saw Samson raise and lower his free hand, a glimmer of lyrium powered magic visible for just a second in the air, and beside him Dorian grunted and staggered back a step.

“Drop that firearm Captain Cadash,” Samson ordered in a self-satisfied drawl that sounded not at all like the bumbling simpleton who’d shared their table not three hours ago.

Edric reluctantly placed the gun on the ground and raised his arms, “this is not my best day ever,” he lamented to himself.

“Dorian of House Pavus, you are bound by law to stand down,”

“What?” Edric stuttered, this new piece of information barely registering in his mind. “Oh, the Enchanter? Oh. Hey! Is there – is there a reward?” he said dropping his hands. He did not mind the hateful glare that Dorian sent his way at all.

“Get on the ground,” Samson ordered.

“Templar, you are making a mistake,” Dorian tried reasoning with him.

“I think you’d best do as he says, Altus, the man seems a might twitchy,” Edric suggested.

“I think everybody could do to calm down,” Leliana stepped forward slowly, keeping her tones measured and calm in contrast to the heightened emotions in the room.

“This isn’t your business, sister,” Samson told her.

“You’ve neutralised the boy’s magic, he’s not going anywhere,” she said reasonably, “As I understand it, it’s pretty cold outside,”

“Not to worry,” Edric offered, “Put Lord Triffles Minutiae here in one of the passenger cells. He won’t make a peep,”

“Get the hell away from that weapon!” Samson snapped loudly, and Edric felt his heartrate double. “You think I’m completely lyrium addled? You’re taking a fugitive across interplanetary borders, and you really expect me to believe you’re delivering magical supplied to Montsimmard? As far as I care everyone on this ship is culpable,”

“Well now,” Edric replied, going very still, “that has an effect on the landscape,”

“Please, we are very close to true stupidity here,” Leliana pleaded, still moving slowly forward.

“There is a cruiser en route for intercept, so talk all you want. You’ve got about twenty minutes,” Samson sneered at the sister.

“You might have less than that,” Edric threatened.

“Oh yes, go on, threaten me,” Samson replied.

“By Andraste,” Leliana breathed.

Samson rounded on her, “You think I wouldn’t shoot a Chantry sister? Back off!”

The next few seconds were a blur of activity. Edric took a snap decision, grabbing hold of the Altus and yelling, ‘just take the mage!’ The Altus struggled, also yelling.

“Stand down!” Samson shouted, “Stand the hell down,”

It was then that Dagna appeared in the door, “What is happening?” on her lips. Samson whirled around and the sound of the gunshot filled the cargo hold, echoing off the walls, followed by a terrible silence. Dagna staggered back into the doorframe, eyes wider and more vulnerable than Edric had ever seen. She looked down at her stomach, fingers over the wound, red already blossoming through her clothing. “What?” she whispered.

“Dagna!” Josephine cried out, running down the steps, already removing her dressing gown.

Edric was the next to react, speeding toward the girl, who had just dropped onto the ground. Edric was too focused on Dagna to be fully conscious of what else was going on in the room, but he did see the Chantry sister step forward and with barely a word kick the pistol from the Templar’s hand and deliver a sharp blow to his throat. Samson choked pathetically and then grunted as the sister delivered another blow to his head, and he dropped to the floor.

Dorian was close behind Edric, arm sliding around the small woman, and propping her up. “How do you feel?” he asked her frantically.

“A little odd,” she replied in a dazed voice.

Behind them Edric could hear the Iron Bull growling at Leliana; “Get out of my way,”

“You are not killing this man,”

“’Course not; that bastard’s got a whole heap of pain coming to him first,”

“He is no threat,”

Dagna whimpered, bringing his attention back to his injured crew member, “Why did he?”

Dorian gently peeled away the clothing around the wound, and Edric forced a calm tone as he told her, “Oh, wow. That ain’t hardly a mosquito bite,”

“Ok, Dagna, Dagna stay with me. Dagna, can you move your feet?” Dorian was saying.

Dagna looked up at him blearily. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead and her face was a strange shade of purple. “Are you asking me to dance?”

“She’d going into shock,” Josephine sounded panicked, her fingers stroking frantically through Dagna’s hair as she held her head in her lap tenderly, “Dagna, sorora you have to focus.”

“You got an infirmary working?” Dorian asked Edric.

“Yeah, we’ve got it stocked,”

The sending crystal system buzzed to life and Varric’s voice through, “Captain, we’re being hailed by an Imperial cruiser, ordered to stay on course and dock for prisoner transfer,”

Edric’s gaze flew to Dorian’s, who watched him carefully, before looking down at the little artificer bleeding to death on the floor. He stood slowly, and with great finality said “change course. Run,”

“To the void with you!” Edric growled, “you brought this down on us, I’m dumping you with the Venatori,”

“She’s dying,” Dorian said simply.

“Oh, the entitled Altus noticed,”

“I’m an expert in necromancy,” Dorian told him, “That means anatomy, an affinity with the spirit, a talent for unnaturally prolonging life energy. Now I may be no spirit healer, I can’t call on spirits to heal her body, but I can tether her spirit here long enough for me to take the bullet out manually, and enough knowledge of biology to do it. And like all mages of any skill I can perform basic healing spells. None of you are surgeons – do you honestly think you can save her without me?”

Edric read between the lines, “You’d let her die?”

“Yes, I would,” he replied bitterly.

“You can’t do that!”

“There’s no way the Venatori will let us walk,” Cass said. Edric hadn’t seen her arrive, but presumably she’d defused whatever was brewing between the Chantry sister and the Iron Bull and seen to it Samson was tied up.

“Then we dump him in a shuttle and leave him for them!” Edric snapped.

“Everybody’s so angry…” Dagna whispered weakly.

“It’s ok, sorora” Josephine soothed her, still stroking her hair.

“Do you know what a stomach wound does to a person?” Dorian snapped.

“I surely do,”

“Then you know how crucial the next few minutes are,”

“You let her die, and you’ll never make it to the Venatori,” Cass told him with a frightening calm.

Dorian didn’t flinch, “she’ll still be dead,”

Edric swore under his breath, “You Alti bastards! You think your lives are the only thing that matters. What did you do? Kill your parents for the family fortune?”

“I do not kill people!” Dorian shouted back.

“Then save her!”

“Turn this ship around!”

“Enough!” Josephine stood up, whirling on Edric, “Edric, do it!”

“Don’t you ever tell me –“

Dagna’s pained cry rang out in the hold, and Edric’s heart dropped into his stomach. He looked at Dorian, who stared back, waiting for his decision. “Cass, change course,”

Dorian didn’t wait for confirmation, springing to action immediately. “I need Lyirum,” he ordered, “to counteract the Templar’s smite,” Josephine was off like a shot, running to the med bay and returning promptly with a dose of the refined lyrium they kept on hand for healers they sometimes brought in to treat a wound.

Edric felt the familiar tug of magic in the air; necromantic spells felt like a creeping chill on your spine and the back of your neck. Dagna went oddly taught and rigid, as though paralysed.

Dorian met his gaze, “I’ve slowed everything down,” he said by way of explanation, “help me get her up,” Edric and Dorian carried her through into the infirmary. Behind him he could hear Cass relaying instructions to run to Varric, but he could barely concentrate on that over the rush of blood in his ears.

“When this is over, you and I are going to have a chat,” Edric promised.

“Won’t that be fun,” Dorian muttered as they carried her through into the infirmary.

After that there was no more talking. Josephine opened the doors ahead of them and made sure the way was clear. They laid her on the cot, and Dorian immediately set about getting out what equipment he needed. The Altus grumbled to himself about inappropriate tools, but he wasn’t a doctor and didn’t have anything better to offer, so he made do. To Edric the process seemed to take forever, Dorian concentrating so intensely on his patient that nothing else seemed important.

Seeing the bits of the bullet being pulled out of Dagna only served to intensify his fury. Of everyone on the ship he could think of no one who deserved this less than the little artificer. It should be Dorian with the hole blown through him, but instead…

After what seemed like eons Dorian started to clean himself up. “I can’t do anything more right now, I’ve released the tether on her spirit. We’ll just have to see what happens.”

“I would really like to know what’s going on here,” Josephine said.

Edric thought back to the hold, and how he had found Dorian. The box. “Well let’s find out, shall we?” he said before striding purposefully toward the cargo bay.

“What?” Dorian turned with confusion clearly written on his face before realisation struck him, and he tore after the captain, “Wait, no!” he dashed out “Don’t touch that!”

Edric barely turned except to see Dorian suddenly in a choke hold, the Iron Bull clasping both his hands securely.

“Hold still pretty boy,” he said gruffly.

Edric pressed the release on the box, and watched as it hissed from released pressure. He looked over at Dorian, “So let’s see what a man like you would kill for,”

“No don’t!” Dorian yelled as Edric went to kick the lid away, but it was too late.

Edric stared down at the scene before him, cold smoke dissipating slowly until he could make out something he really hadn’t expected. A young man, about Dorian’s age, curled up inside the box, unconscious and naked, cushioned by white material. Edric stared for a few more seconds, then looked at Dorian, then back at the young man. “Huh…” he said simply.


	8. Chapter 8

Runes glowed softly, colouring the cold steam rapidly condensing in the air a glittering purple. The young man lay sleeping and still, tanned Tevinter skin smooth, face clean shaven, and hair cut as precisely as the Altus’, though more practical and not so less flashy in style.

The Iron Bull had relaxed his hold on the mage in surprise, and Dorian used the opportunity to shrug himself out of the strangle hold and start forward. The Iron Bull immediately twisted his arms behind his back, and Edric looked up questioningly.

“I need to check his vitals!” Dorian told him urgently.

“Oh is that what they call it?” Edric snorted, stepping toward the Altus.

“He’s not supposed to wake up for another week. The shock –“

“The shock of what? Waking up?” Edric snarled, “Finding out he’s been sold to some border world baron.” Dorian looked like he’d been slapped and Edric put on a look of false consternation, “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this one for you? Is it true love? Because you do seem a little –“

A frightened scream from behind him caused Edric to stumble sideways with a soft, startled cry, and he looked back to see the man behind him sitting up in the box. The young man gave another pained scream that turned into a frightened whimpering as he looked around the room. He clamboured out of the box, still staring around frantically, his green eyes wide, before shrinking back against the metal box. Droplets of condensation made his short dark hair stick to his face, his too slender chest rose and fell rapidly in gasps and whimpers, and he shook terribly as he took in his surroundings.

Dorian forced his way out of the Iron Bull’s grasp, who for his part was too taken aback by the sight to pay much notice. Carefully Dorian approached the frightened man, whose breathing seemed to be coming in ever shorter and sharper gasps until Edric was sure he was hyperventilating.

“Felix?” Dorian said in a questioning tone, hands outstretched as he approached cautiously, kneeling down before the man.

Felix gave a little cry of fear as Dorian touched him. “It’s ok, it’s ok!” Dorian rushed to say in a panicked tone, “It’s ok, I’m here,” he said then, more soothingly.

Slowly recognition seemed to dawn in the man, Felix’s eyes, who studied Dorian for a few intense seconds as his breathing slowed just a little. “Dorian?” he asked. Then his face crumpled again. “Dorian, he talks to me! In my head. He tries to help. He wants me to – He wants me to –“

“No, they’re gone!” Dorian said desperately, “They’re gone, they’re gone. We’re safe now. We’re safe, I promise,” he enveloped Felix in an embrace as the man proceeded to break down into quiet sobs, face buried in Dorian’s chest.

Around the hanger the crew of the Skyhold watched wordlessly, Cass and Varric from the steps to the upper decks, Josephine standing a step behind the captain with the Iron Bull and casting nervous glances at Edric.

Edric frowned.

“By the Ancestors. What is this?” he demanded.

Dorian looked up at the dwarf, fingers stroking soothingly through the other man’s hair. “This is one of the best men I have ever known,” he said softly, his voice sad.

***

When Felix had eventually calmed down, and a large dress shirt of the Iron Bull’s draped over him, Dorian was ordered to take his companion to the med bay. He complied wordlessly, apart from to whisper soothingly to Felix, who followed obediently, twitching and jumping at every new sound but otherwise calm and docile enough. He seemed disoriented, but Dorian was attentive and gentle as he coaxed him through the hanger and down the steps toward the med bay, in a way that belied his usually proud and frivolous appearance.

Upon reaching the med bay Felix had taken one look at the prone form of little Dagna on the operating table and started to panic, trying frantically to back out of the room, hands flying to his head as though he were physically in pain from the sight of her. It had taken Dorian a few minutes to calm him, but once he had convinced Felix to lie down on the other cot the Altus had sat by him, silently holding his hand and stroking very slightly with his thumb. It was a simple, kind gesture that witnessed to great intimacy between the two of them, as the Iron Bull pointed out to Edric. The two of them had been watching from the door.

Cass gathered the crew into the kitchen, and when Felix finally had drifted to sleep, the Iron Bull escorted Dorian to the upper deck and bade him stand before the assembled audience.

Dorian looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, collecting himself. Eventually he began, “I am very intelligent. Brilliant, some might say. I have studied in the most prestigious Circles of the Imperium, and my achievement such that even my frequent indiscretions and altercations with fellow mages was overlooked on the strength of the work I produced. ‘Gifted’ is the term. I have always, too, had an affinity for Necromancy, and a fascination with the fabric of space and time. My studies led me to the tutelage of one Gereon Alexius, a great man, noble, with high ideals, and studying ways to use magic to manipulate time itself.

“It was a joyful fascination, an academic curiosity that inspired those around, myself included. And through him I met his son, Felix. Felix was intelligent, but no more so than the average student of the Circle at Minrathous. But Felix… he was the best of us. Politics was his forte. He wanted change in Tevinter, an end to slavery, improved rights for the Laetan and Soporati. He even dreamed of Soporati in the Magisterium, though he only ever mentioned that privately to me and Gereon. With him around you knew things could be better. One day would be better. And I loved him as a brother for it.”

Dorian paused, smiling at a memory, “When I was working late he used to…” he stopped abruptly, his smile fading as he took in the grim faces watching him, as if realising suddenly that he was confiding in strangers and not friends.

“There was an attack. Felix and his mother were on a ship heading back from a humanitarian mission to one of the border planets, and it was hit by Darkspawn,” the room shifted suddenly, the audience suddenly sitting up straighter or looking around nervously, but Dorian didn’t pause. “that he survived at all is a miracle, but the Blight…”

Varric swore, “Are you mad?! That boy has the Blight?”

“No!” Dorian clarified hastily, “No, he doesn’t. When Gereon found out he was devastated. He couldn’t accept the death of both his wife and only son, so he, and I, threw ourselves into finding a cure. So what if it had never been done? We were the intellectual elite of Tevinter. There was nothing I couldn’t do. We dedicated our every waking moment to researching the Blight, we experimented with necromancy, refined our slowly developing theories of temporal manipulation. We managed to neutralise the disease first, so Felix could no longer infect others or us. Next I figured out how to slow the body, slow his blood and delay the spread of the corruption to give us more time. But all of this was only delaying the inevitable and a cure was still beyond us.

“Gereon was frantic, and his fascination with time magic had slipped almost into obsession when we were approached by a government sponsored medical facility called Aeonar. We had never even heard of it, but some of the results they showed us were more promising than anything we had seen. We weren’t getting anywhere ourselves, so Gereon agreed that Felix should go, and Felix too agreed to attempt it.”

Dorian paused, “That was 3 years ago.” He stared off at the floor for a few moments, before rousing himself. “I uh, stayed with Gereon, researching, and then, later, caring for him as the events of those months took their toll. He died not 4 months after Felix went to Aeonar. I got a few letters from Felix at first, and then I didn’t hear anything for months. Finally I got a letter that made no sense, he talked about things that never happened, jokes we never shared – it was a code. It just said ‘they’re hurting us. Get me out’,”

“How did you do it?” Cassandra asked.

“Money,” Dorian shrugged, “And – and luck. For two years I couldn’t get near him until I was contacted by some men from some underground movement calling themselves the Lucerni. They said that he was in danger, that the Venatori were… playing with his mind, and that whatever it was involved demons. If I funded them they could sneak him out in stasis, assuming he wasn’t already possessed, and get him to Kirkwall, and from there I could take him… wherever.”

“Will he be alright?” Josephine asked.

“I don’t know if he’ll be alright. I don’t know what they did to him. Or why. One thing is that he isn’t Blighted anymore, though Maker knows how. I just… I owe it to him to keep him safe,” Dorian looked defeated, going silent. For a moment he looked like a lost boy, totally unsure of what to do.

Varric and Cass looked sombre and serious, concerned frowns on their faces. The Iron Bull scratched his chin thoughtfully, one eye never drifting from Dorian.

“That’s quite a story, monsieur Pavus,” Leliana said quietly, in the oppressive silence.

“Yeah!” Edric cut in, in a tone that said ‘not what’s important right now’, “It’s a tale of woe. Very stirring. But in the meantime, you’ve heaped a world of trouble on me and mine,”

Dorian had the grace to look upset, “I never thought –“

“No I don’t imagine you thought.” Edric agreed, turning the face him, “A consequence of which we’ve got a kidnapped Templar on board, the Venatori hard on our trail, and Dagna –“

“How much does the Imperium know?” Cass said, turning to Varric.

Varric shook his head, “Ancestors, I don’t know. I killed the message pretty quick. Maybe they just have our position…”

“Or maybe they have personal profiles on each and every one of us,” Edric added, “Till that Templar wakes up we won’t know,”

“So what do we do?” the Iron Bull asked.

Edric considered for a moment, “The job.” He said finally, “we finish the job. I got word from Madame de Fer. We circle round to Montsimmard, make the deal, get out, keep flying,”

“What about us?” Dorian asked softly.

“Dagna pulls through? You and your friend are getting off at Montsimmard.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Well then you’ll be getting off a mite sooner,”

“That would be murder,” Leliana told him seriously.

Edric didn’t look at all phased, turning to Leliana calmly, “Boy made a decision,”

“He didn’t shoot her,” Josephine reminded him.

“No, but someone else on this boat did, and if there’s gonna be any throwing out of spaceships I think it outta be him,” the Iron Bull responded.

“Kill a Templar? Can you think of a stupider thing to do?” Cass said incredulously.

The Iron Bull shrugged, “He can ID us all. And I don’t think he’s like to be cooperative,”

Dorian chose this moment to recover from the initial shock and start arguing. His stance was taller, more like the Magister he would surely have been one day, “You want to throw me out the airlock? Fine. I probably even deserve it. But Felix is not a part of this.”

Varric rolled his eyes in an expression somewhere between ‘Ancestors give me strength’ and ‘this conversation can’t seriously be happening’. With some effort he tried for a calm, rational tone, hands gesturing face up, “Can we maybe vote on the whole murdering people issue please?”

“We don’t vote on my ship” Edric snapped, “because my ship isn’t the rutting town hall!”

“This is insanity!” Josephine’s usually serene tone was angry now.

“I happen to think there are ways beyond that now, _captain_ ,” Varric pronounced ‘captain’ with a curled lip and a sneer, he looked to Cassandra for support, who was only quietly frowning down at the table in front of her. “Tell him we’re going to talk this through,”

“I will not sit by while there is killing,” Leliana added her voice to the brewing argument. Everyone was trying to speak at once now. Cass and Varric arguing with each other, the Iron Bull reminding everyone about Samson who still had to be dealt with, Leliana starting a lecture to Edric on what the Chantry preached about murder, and Josephine appealing to the room on behalf of Dorian and Felix, while Dorian continued his impassioned defence of his friend.

“Flocci non facio, tace!” Edric shouted above the noise. The room quietened. “The way it is is the way it is. We gotta deal with what’s in front of us,”

There was a pregnant pause. Josephine stepped forward. “Edric you know those two won’t survive a day in Montsimmard undetected anyway. You throw them out and I’m leaving too,”

Edric considered her for a few moments, “Might be best you do. You ain’t a part of this business,” he said finally and turned to walk out of the room, leaving the deflated crew behind him. He walked into the corridor to the crew quarters, but a voice followed him.

“And what business is that exactly?” Dorian called after him; he had followed him out. Edric turned back to him, a steady glare on his face. “What?” Dorian laughed with false cheer, “I’m a dead man! I can’t know? Gold? Lyrium? Dwarven treasure?” he asked dramatically, “What is it that makes you so afraid of the Imperium?”

Edric stepped up to him, shaking his head, “You do not want to go down this road with me boy,”

“Oh?” Dorian taunted scornfully, “So you’re not afraid of them? I already know you’d sell me out to the Venatori for a pat on the head. You should probably be working for them – you certainly fit the profile of Soporati lack --,”

Edric had to reach up and grab Dorian by the scruff of his neck and drag him down to his level to throw a punch that connected with his face, but the move took Dorian so off guard that he was sprawled on the floor pain blooming through his cheek before he was really aware of what was going on. The boy was staring up in such utter disbelief that were Edric in a better mood he would have found it comical. The pampered noble still didn’t really understand where he was, and who he was with – this was not the shining central planets of Tevinter or Orlais, and here people would punch you if they thought your deserved it, Altus or no.

From the door the Iron Bull chuckled, a mug of tea in hand, he grinned down at Dorian meanly. “Saw that one coming,” he said.


	9. Chapter 9

The left hand guest cabin near the infirmary was almost never used, and now convenient enough as a makeshift prison cell. The walls were the same cheerful yellow, and in some places you could see unfinished stencilled flowers painted on the walls where Dagna and Josephine had presumably been decorating the room for future use. The room was otherwise bare, the only furniture the standard bed, washbasin and chair that came with it. Samson was tied to the chair in the corner.

Edric tore the duct tape off Samson’s mouth roughly, ignoring the man’s wince, instead pacing around the small guest room as he spoke. “I’m in a tricky position,” he said ruefully, “I guess you know. Got me a boatload of terribly strange folk, making my life a little more interesting than I generally like. Chief among them, a Templar mole, likes to shoot at girls when he’s nervous.” Samson looked up at that part, though he still didn’t say anything. Just watching as the captain strode toward him again. “Now I gotta know how close the Imperium is, exactly how much you told them before Varric scrambled your call. So…” Edric turned and walked over to the Iron Bull, who stood silently and menacingly on the bed in the corner, wearing his very best ‘I am a Qunari savage’ expression, “I’ve given the Iron Bull here the job of finding out. I don’t suppose you know this, but my friend here was Ben Hassrath at one time, so I’m leaving you in expert hands,”

The Iron Bull smiled meanly, casually pulling out a vial of strange white substance that glowed dimly from his pocket, “He was non-specific as to how I carry out the interrogation,” he said levelly to Samson.

Samson looked away to hide the flash of worry that crossed his face.

Edric motioned to the Iron Bull, who leaned down so the dwarf could murmur in his ear. “You have qamek?!” he whispered, “You know you only gotta scare him,”

The Iron Bull smiled enigmatically, “Chemically induced lobotomy is scary. I’ll explain the qamek later,”

Edric frowned but nodded, “Just do it right,” he told the Iron Bull, and then left the room.

Samson watched the door slide shut, and then his eyes flickered to the Bull, who grinned at him and stepped down off the bed, coming to sit in front of him.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” Samson started immediately.

“Gee, I’ve never been in trouble with Tevinter before,” the Iron Bull replied sarcastically.

“No, not like this you haven’t. You think this is just a smuggling rap? The package that Altus is carrying…”

“It’s a guy,” the Iron Bull interrupted, “he’s pretty cute too except that I don’t think he’s all there, ya know, and I don’t go for that,”

“That boy is a precious commodity and they will come after him. Long after you bury me, they’ll be coming,”

“Oh,” the Iron Bull chuckled, waving the vial of qamek nonchalantly, “I’m not going to kill you Samson,” he paused, “What’s your first name?”

Samson looked like he was considering not replying but eventually sighed, “Raleigh,”

“Well, Raleigh, I’m just gonna force this down your throat. Not too much, or it’ll work too quickly. No, it’ll be just enough to make you all nice and docile for me and before your memories are destroyed completely you’ll tell me what I want to know,”

“They know everything!” Samson shouted desperately, “They know every name, every record, they know how many… nose hairs you’ve got!”

The Iron Bull made a frustrated gesture, raising his hands up to the ceiling and standing u to pace the room “Ah, see, they don’t know a damn thing! It’s all over your face, and I ain’t even…” he looked genuinely forlorn, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen qamek in action. Aren’t you a Templar? Don’t they teach you how to withstand interrogation? You aren’t even remotely good at lying, though admittedly it wouldn’t have helped you much if you were,”

Samson gathered his thoughts, “Ok. I can see you’re not an idiot,”

“I wish I could say the same, Raleigh, but this is disappointing.” The Iron Bull said, stretching.

“Let me speak a language a mercenary will understand – Money. That boy is worth a lot of money. I mean a lot. Now if you kill me or… lobotomise me there’s nothing. But if you help me out, you’ll have enough to buy your own ship and start a merc company of your own,”

There was a long pause where neither moved, both staring at each other, sizing the other up.

“And does helping you out mean turning on the captain?”

“Yes, it does,”

***

This was really not Edric’s best day ever. He contemplated this fact ruefully as he made his way to the cockpit, where Varric had called him telling him the proximity alert had triggered. Why exactly was it that everything conceivable that possibly way going wrong currently was.

“How the hell did they find us? I thought you said you could get around them.” Edric didn’t bother to greet Varric, just walking straight into the cockpit and directing his attention toward the dashboard.

“It’s not the Imperium,” Varric told him.

“You sure?”

Varic tapped out a few commands on the dashboard and shook his head, “Nah, it’s a smaller vessel,”

“Commercial?”

“Uh, yeah… I read it as an older model – Caridin-K…” Varric sat back looking concerned.

“I didn’t think Caridin-K still operated,”

“They don’t,”

“Get me a visual,” Edric ordered, the worry in his voice palpable.

“They’re still too far out…”

“Get me something!”

Varric turned back to the panels, rapidly activating runes in different combinations, “I’m picking up a lot of excess lyrium, and it’s not the usual signature it’s more like… red, they’re using red lyrium to power the ship – mortem sibi consciscere – that’s suicide!”

Edric moved out from behind the ship controls to look out of the window at the ship, that was still only a grey shape against the backdrop of stars and space, “Darkspawn…” he said simply.

Neither man spoke for a few moments, a shared moment of horror and dread hanging thickly between them.

“Ancestors,” Varric said eventually, “Ancestors and stone preserve us,”

***

Edric’s voice drifted out over the ship’s sending crystal system, _“This is the captain,”_ he said cutting through the quiet of the ship infirmary, where Leliana sat reading quietly from the Chant of Light and watching the two unconscious patients.

_“We’re passing another ship. Looks to be Darkspawn,”_

Out in the hallway by the guest quarters Dorian and Cass listened anxiously, and Cass closed her eyes as she took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

_“From the size, probably a raiding party. Could be they’re headed somewhere in particular. Could be they’ve already hit someone and are headed back to the Thaig moons. So everyone stay calm.”_

Josephine, paying rapt attention in the seclusion of her own shuttle, sat down on the bed, her hands worrying each other nervously. And from his own room the Iron Bull immediately went for his collection of guns – better to be prepared should the worst happen.

_“If we run, they’ll chase us. It’s their way. So we’re holding course and we should be passing them in a minute. So we’ll see what they do,” Edric paused his speech, “Cass, you come on up to the bridge,”_

Cass ducked through the doorway to the infirmary area, heading toward the hanger. Dorian jogged to catch up with her.

“Uh, I don’t understand.” He said.

Cass gave him an appraising look, as though he’d just told her he didn’t know what a Qunari was, “Your friend is Blighted. You must know about Darkspawn,”

“Was Blighted.” Dorian corrected, “And yes, or at least I know of them but – what happens if they board us?”

Cass’ expression softened a little, and Dorian realised that the stoic woman wasn’t quite as implacable as she appeared. He saw before him suddenly someone that wanted more than anything to protect those around her, but who knew with a certainty that terrified him that if the Darkspawn boarded she would not be able to. “If they take the ship, and we are very, very lucky, they will just brutalise us, eat our flesh, and decorate the ship with our body parts. If we’re unlucky, they’ll take one of the women beat her and rape her until the Blight starts to change her, and the rest of us they’ll force feed to her piece by piece to speed up the change,”

Cass turned away without another word, going up the steps to the upper deck. Dorian looked slightly ill, and took a few seconds to compose himself. He headed into the infirmary proper where Leliana murmured extracts from the Chant of Light quietly.

“All that the Maker has wrought is in His hand, beloved and precious to Him. Where the Maker has turned His face away, is a Void in all things;”

The Canticle of Threnodies, Dorian recognised, from the account of the Darkspawn’s creation. Many believed it to be the fault of Tevinter Magisters, though he himself was unsure, and the Imperial Chantry denied this. The version of the canticle that Leliana was now reciting was the version found circulating in certain southern Andrastian sects that taught Tevinter was indeed to blame.

Leliana looked up when Dorian entered, pausing her soft chanting to watch as Dorian walked over to his unconscious friend, sitting on the stool next to him, a look of deep consternation written in his features. He ignored her, choosing instead to focus on Felix, wondering if in the end all of this would end in another Darkspawn attack. The irony was far from lost on him.

Next to him Leliana began to chant quietly again. She was singing the chant, and vaguely Dorian was aware that she had a very beautiful voice but right now he couldn’t decide whether the singing was comforting or unsettling. He sat and listened quietly anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

No one turned to greet Cass when she reached the bridge, they were too busy watching the slow progress of the Darkspawn ship drifting past, looming over them. They were too close to the Darkspawn to see the whole ship, instead only seeing bulkheads and the weaponised electrical runes forming a circle at the head of the ship. Cass placed her hand tentatively on Varric’s shoulder, and Varric glanced at her with a strained smile and took her hand in his, kissing her palm in a simple comforting gesture.

Varric pointed at the ship “Those runes create an electric loop. They get a hold of us with that –“

“Just tell me if they change course,” Edric said calmly.

Cass and Edric watched the ship, while Varric turned his attention to the monitors, watching for any change. At length he sighed deeply. “They’re holding course,” he sat back, and placed another kiss on Cass’ hand. She squeezed his hand back in reply and gave him a small smile of relief. “I didn’t expect to see them here,” Varric commented.

Cass frowned, “They’re pushing out further every year even without an Archdemon leading them,”

Edric nodded, “It’s getting awfully crowded in my sky,”

***

Later, when Dorian and Leliana had gone to get some rest, Edric stood watch in the infirmary considering his options. The young man, Felix, was fast asleep still, lying on a wide shelf with cushions and a blanket turning it into a bed. He wasn’t a terribly handsome man, but he looked young, in his early twenties if Edric had to guess. Dorian too, Edric mused on reflection, couldn’t be much more than twenty five.

What was he going to do with two runaways from the Imperium? Two _mage_ runaways. Even one lone mage was a huge risk for anything less than a full mercenary company. The risk of possession was too great to allow more than one – without Templars this far out (excluding agents like Samson) the occurrence of an abomination was certain death unless you had a lot of men with guns behind you. The nomadic Dalish who wandered the outer rim planets on patchwork ships, were usually commanded by a mage, but would only ever allow another one or maybe two other mages to live on their ships.

“Hey captain,” a voice from behind him dragged him out of his reverie, and he turned to see Dagna watching him with a tired but still slightly mischievous and knowing smile.

“Hey,” Edric smiled, “Hello Dagna, what’s the news?”

“I’m all good, captain, A-OK” she said drowsily. Evidently the heavy dose of elfroot Dorian had given her hadn’t worn off yet. “I can’t feel much below my stomach though,” she mused. “And it’s cold,”

Edric looked around for a blanket, “Well, you just gotta rest,” his gaze lighted on a brown blanket in the corner of the infirmary, and he went to fetch it as he continued speaking. “Something’s gonna break down on this boat real soon. I need our resident arcanist back in the power room. Who else I got to fix it?” he covered her carefully in the blanket.

“Oh don’t you worry none,” Dagna said cheerfully, the lethargic slur still colouring her words, “Altus fixed me up pretty well, all things considered,” she paused, considering, “he’s a kind man,”

Edric pursed his lips. He did not feel the same, “Don’t get too attached now, sorora,” he told her, “the mage won’t be with us for long,”

Dagna smiled at him, “You’re kind too,”

A smile tugged at Edric’s lips, “No I’m not. I’m a mean old man,”

“He was never going to let me die,” she said seriously, “He was just trying to –“ she looked over at Felix, lost in thought for a moment. Then she roused herself and reached for Edric’s hand, clasping it with somewhat limp fingers, “It’s nobody’s fault. Ok? Just promise me you’ll remember that,”

Edric couldn’t manage a smile at these words, nor could he bring himself to lie to the cheerful enchanter, “I’ll keep it in mind,” he bit out, swallowing back the urge to tell her sternly that this was most definitely Dorian’s fault. Dorian who had put them all in the firing line by coming aboard in the first place, Dorian who had lied to them, Dorian who didn’t stand down when the Templar revealed himself, Dorian who stood there and refused to help Dagna unless Edric risked all of their lives.

His words seemed enough for Dagna, who smiled, “You are a nice man, captain. You’re always looking after us. But you gotta have faith in people,” she looked over to Felix again, studying him, “He was afraid, and trying to protect his friend. I don’t think he knew what to do,”

Dagna’s expression changed then, the last of her strength giving out, and her eyes drifted closed. Edric watched her hand fall lifelessly from his, her head dropping, and then stilling. He turned and left.

***

Josephine handed Dorian the small packages, individually wrapped packets filled with creams or liquids, “It’s just a standard bard potion kit, basic salves and elfroot potions. I’m not sure if it will help much in this case,”

“It can’t hurt,” Dorian nodded, “The potions down there are pretty rudimentary; as far as I can tell whoever mixed them hasn’t even included any Dawn Lotus infusions in the recipe, let alone embrium or prophet’s laurel,” he mused, looking relieved to have some halfway decent supplies in his hands. “Maker knows I’m no healer. This is a blessing. Truly,”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“I don’t think so, but I appreciate it,” Dorian turned toward the door.

“Dagna is very dear,” Josephine told him seriously, stopping Dorian in his tracks. “To all of us,”

When Dorian looked back guilt mingled with hopelessness, as though he wanted to ask for forgiveness but could not. “I – I’m sorry,” he said uselessly, “for my part in what happened,” he saw Josephine’s hard expression soften and stepped closer. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to…”

“You’re lost in the woods,” Josephine saved him from having to explain himself, “We all are. Even the captain. The only difference is, he likes it that way,”

“No, the only difference is the woods are the only place I can see a clear path,” Edric interrupted, striding into the shuttle uninvited. Dorian gave a minute start and stiffened considerably. “What’s your business here?” he snapped, casting a deadly glare at Dorian.

Dorian drew his shoulders up imperiously, sniffing dismissively at Edric, “That would be my affair, and that of the lovely Lady Ambassador, _captain_ ,” he said in his best, ‘I am an Altus of the Imperium’ voice. “And I fail to see what business it is of yours. Could it be jealously? Do you suspect I came begging a free thrust before I depart this world?” he tutted, “Such crass notions you have,”

“Why you arrogant brat, you –“

Dorian ignored Edric smoothly, continuing on as though he hadn’t spoken. He turned to Josephine and bowed deeply, with a thoroughly unnecessary flourish, “Another time perhaps,” and with that unwise display he exited the shuttle. Edric glowered, but let him go without punching him again.

Josephine curtsied back and then glared at Edric, “What are you doing in my shuttle?”

“It’s my shuttle. You rent it,” he replied

“Then when I’m behind on the rent you can enter unasked,”

“I thought you were leaving anyhow,”

“Well I guess that depends on you,”

Edric’s lips turned downward in an unhappy frown, and he studied her for a moment as he tried to think of a response. None was forthcoming. Instead he just turned and went after the mage who had only made it a few meters away from the shuttle, not even all the way to the stairs.

“You’ll ruin her too you know!” Edric shouted after him, once the shuttle door had closed and he was safely out of Dorian’s earshot. Dorian froze, and then very slowly turned back to the captain. “This is the thing I see you’re uncomprehending on. Everyone on this ship, even a legitimate businesswoman from Nevarra like her, their lives can be snatched away because of you and that Templar. You got a solution for that? You got a way out for us?”

Dorian’s squared shoulders fell slightly, but he didn’t look away, which were Edric in a more charitable mood he might have respected. “No,” he admitted heavily, “I don’t,”

“Come’s time someone’s gonna have to deal with him. I’m thinking it should be you. I’m sure a Tevinter Altus necromancer has little issue with a bit of murder if it helps him get ahead,” Edric sneered, but Dorian looked pale, perhaps even a little green. “But I’m not sure you have the stomach for – mess like that. And I know you don’t have the time,”

Dorian frowned, looking directly at the captain, a question in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Dagna’s dead,”


	11. Chapter 11

Edric walked away from the stunned Altus, leaving his words to sink in.

Dorain felt all the warmth drain from his body. There was a sick cold in his chest and stomach of the kind he’d experienced only once before, when he’d come face to face with Despair in the fade. He felt lost, and horribly, horribly empty. She’d been young. And from the brief conversations he’d had with her about rune crafting, undeniably a genius. She shouldn’t be dead. It should have been him. Or that Templar. Not the bright, smiling dwarf girl, who’d quizzed him enthusiastically about the principles of necromantic spells while she cheerfully loaded his dinner plate with fresh grilled tomatoes.

Sometimes he wondered if the Maker had any care for his creations at all.

Dorian fled down the steps and stumbled desperately to the infirmary to see…

…Dagna chatting happily with Leliana. She waved at him.

Dorian looked toward the hanger, mystified, and panting from the sudden exertion. “The man’s psychotic!”

***

The Iron Bull and Varric roared with laughter, “You are psychotic,” Varric said between breaths.

He, the Iron Bull, Edric and Cass were on the bridge, standing in a circle. Three of them were laughing uncontrollably, almost giggling. Cass worried her bottom lip as though caught between laughter and deep disapproval.

Edric wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, “No, you should have seen his face. Ancestors, I’m a bad man,”

Cass did let out a huff of laughter then, “And Dagna’s really ok?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Edric nodded, “Tell the truth I didn’t expect her to heal this quick. Necromancy works surprisingly well as a substitute for an old fashioned doctor. Not as effective as spirit healing of course, Dagna would be running about already if the boy were a spirit healer. But the enchanter knows his trade, I’ll give him that,”

Cass gave a satisfied nod, smiling, just as a beeping sound went off on the panel behind them.

“Sending crystal,” Varric explained.

“That’ll be Madame de Fer,” Edric said, “We’re close enough for imaging. Put her up,”

Dagna had once tried to explain to Edric how the imagers worked. Apparently it had to do with temporarily pulling a bit of the fade up against the veil so closely that you could see the images from the dream world. But you did it so that the bit of the fade you saw was pulled up against the veil at the location where the other person was, so you were seeing the same bit of the fade. The spirits there responded to the real world by playing out what was happening in both locations, and the result was that you could ‘see’ the other person. Then overlay that with the magic of the sending crystals and you could talk to them too. The whole thing sounded batshit crazy to Edric, but they worked well enough.

Varric stood up so Edric could take his place. Edric sat down and activated the right runes to start the feed.

The image of a striking woman, with dark skin, a shaved head, and intricately embroidered robes appeared. She was very beautiful. She was also very dangerous. In Edric’s experience that was frequently the way of things.

“Captain Edric Cadash,” the image of Madame de Fer smiled in what appeared to be genuine pleasure, “my dear, how truly gratifying it is to see you again,”

“Hello Vivienne,” Edric greeted.

“I have to say I did not altogether expect to be hearing from you in the near future,” she said breezily.

“Well, we may not have parted on the best of terms. I realise certain words were exchanged. Also certain… spells. But that’s lyrium through the engine, it’s in the past. We’re businesspeople. And besides your days of fighting over salvage rights are long behind you from what I hear. What are you First Enchanter now?”

“My circumstances are happily improved since our last meeting, yes. Now my dear, indulge my curiosity; are you quite certain you have disclosed all the pertinent details about your shipment? Because you see, forgive me, but what you ask is altogether too low for such a valuable consignment,”

“It’s imprinted. Vint registration codes. Hence the discount,”

“Oh? Imperium goods then?”

“That doesn’t work for you, no harm. Just thought you could use them,”

“The Circle of Minrathous has its limits, dear.” Vivienne said archly, “I do not have concerns on that front, I am simply ensuring I am in full possession of all the particulars. I am much obliged to you for your honesty, I do so dislike crude games. I accept your proposal. My assistant will send coordinates for a location a little way from the city,”

“See you topside,” Edric said, switching off the imager. He sat quietly, considering for a moment, “I believe that woman is planning to freeze me again,”

“She meant to pay you, she’d have haggled you down some,” the Iron Bull agreed.

Edric stood up, letting Varric take back his place in the pilot’s seat.

Varric mused “Just a little effort to hide it would have been…”

A loud clattering cut Varric off. Edric had kicked a dish and cup that sat on the steps down toward the window.

“Ser, we don’t have to deal with her,” Cass told Edric, coming up behind him.

Edric sighed, “Yes, we do,”

The Iron Bull shrugged, “Hey, here’s a little concept I’ve been working on, what with us having mages and all, why don’t we freeze her first? Or fry her. The Altus is a right spitfire, I’m willing to bet he favours pyromancy. Possibly astrapomancy, but I’m thinking pyromancy is a safe bet,”

Varric chuckled, “It is her turn,” he said, “And Tiny, ‘astrapomancy’ would be what exactly?”

The Iron Bull grinned, “Lightening, calling storms and what not. You know those Vints who fly fighters and shoot lightning bolts out their asses? Astrapomancers,”

“Huh,” Varric nodded.

Edric sighed, “Whether its cryomancy, pyromancy or astrapomancy, it still doesn’t get us what we need,”

“There’s moons we haven’t seen,” Cass said, “We could try our luck –“

“Our luck?” Edric snapped angrily, whirling on her suddenly, “You notice anything in particular about our luck these past few days? Any kind of pattern?” Cass drew herself up, giving Edric a stern look. Edric’s tense shoulders drooped a fraction, “You depend on luck you end up on the drift. No lyrium, no prospects, beggin’ for Imperium make work, getting towed out to the scrap belt. That ain’t us. Not ever. Madame de Fer’s got the money to pay. She will, one way or another,”

Edric looked at each of his crew in turn. Aside from Dagna all his core team were assembled, looking to him for guidance. “There’s obstacles in our path. But we will deal with them, one by one. We’ll get through this. We will,” Edric turned to Cass, “Get the Altus,”


	12. Chapter 12

The countryside around Montsimmard was all green hills and large fir trees. The terraforming had taken particularly well here, and the moon belonged to one of the richer confederations within the empire of the Imperium, the systems of Orlais, so it was comparatively well resourced for a border moon. Madame Vivienne de Fer was also well connected, and had somehow contrived to become Enchanter to the Orlesian court in the years since Edric had known her, and often visited the central planets of Orlais to advise Minister Celene on matters arcane. This despite Montsimmard being the furthest Orlesian colony from the sub capital planet of Val Royeaux and one of only a handful counted among the border planets. Madame de Fer was nothing if not cunning.

The Skyhold hummed and hissed as it landed, casting a bright lyrium glow on the grass below. Once down and the goods packed up onto the trailer, the Iron Bull set off to find somewhere tracks wouldn’t be obvious where the goods could be hidden while the deal went down. Cass and Edric strode out into the sun, taking a brief moment to enjoy the sensation of the fresh air. They walked over to the coordinates Madame de Fer had given them, and did a loop around the perimeter of the shallow valley they found there. It had excellent visibility all around it.

“Nice place for an ambush,” Cass said conversationally.

“That it is,” Edric agreed.

The Iron Bull came trotting up beside them, and Dorian ambled close behind, looking studiously disinterested, “Here,” he handed Edric and Dorian a sending crystal, “I buried the goods. Equipment is back on the boat, and I picked up the Vint,” he activated the sending crystal, speaking into it, “Testing, testing, Vint, Captain, can you hear me?”

“I’m standing right here,” Dorain said, irritated.

“You’re coming through good and loud,”

“Because I’m standing right here,”

The Iron Bull looked back at the mage with a slightly bemused expression, “Yeah well… the sending crystal…” he indicated the crystal in his hand.

Edric ignored the two of them and walked forward, “Madame de Fer is gonna figure we buried the cargo. Which means putting us to our ease before there’s any action. She’ll come at us from the east, talk the location out of us. She’ll have the coin to show us first. We get it, give the location, and mages hit us from there,” he indicated a spot on the opposite side of the valley, “and there,”

“You think they’re in place yet?” the Iron Bull asked.

“Should be,” Edric nodded. He turned to Dorian, “Cass explained what you need to do?”

Dorian nodded impatiently, “Not entirely sure why I’m doing it, but I didn’t expect I’d get the choice,”

Edric inclined his head, “You don’t.” he agreed, “You’re doing this because you owe us, because you’re still hoping I won’t dump you under the nose of the Venatori, and because Madame de Fer won’t be counting on interference from a Tevinter Circle trained Altus. You feel like taking a walk round the park?” Edric asked the Bull.

“I go right, Vint goes left?”

Edric nodded, “Walk soft. I want Madame de Fer thinking they’re still in place. And don’t kill anyone if you don’t have to. We’re here to make a deal.”

Both men tailed off in the indicated direction, the Iron Bull at a quiet jog, and Dorian with a bored saunter. Edric wondered how much work had gone into such a pointedly unconcerned demeanour.

Cass looked over the valley once again, “Don’t think it’s a good spot, sir,” he concluded, “She still has the advantage over us,”

Edric grimaced, “Everyone always does. That’s what makes us special,”

***

Leliana crept up to the door of the guest room, watching behind her for any sign of movement. The captain and most of his crew were planet side, but Varric could still come around the corner at any moment. She had debated the actions she was about to take in her mind for a long time before making it up to help the Templar. She had left a life of murder behind her long ago, and since then she had taken vows, sworn herself to the Chantry and devoted herself to Andraste and the Maker. She could not, would not sit back while murder was committed.

“The one who repents, who has faith. Unshaken by the darkness of the world. She shall know true peace.” Leliana said to herself when she stood in front of the door, as though steeling herself. “Templar? It’s Sister Leliana,” She whispered, sliding the door open, “I believe you are in more danger –“ she finished her sentence with a surprised cry as a dull metal object impacted with her temple. She didn’t have the time to register what happened, or even the blackness that overcame her; she was unconscious before she hit the floor.

Samson crouched over her, sneering cruelly, his face contorted in a frightening hatred, and he brought the rune powered torch down on her head again, and then once more to be sure. He then proceeded to lift her limp body and drag the Chantry sister into the guestroom. He left her slumped on the floor, and proceeded to close and lock the door behind him.

***

Edric and Cass strode through the grass toward the approaching party of riders, Vivienne de Fer clearly visible with her ornate headdress, brilliant white and silver and shaped like dragon horns. She was covered head to foot in white silk and silver finishings, buckles and rings all matching perfectly. Her staff was painted white and decorated with delicate silver lattices too, completing the picture. The six men who rode with her were dressed in a more traditional Orlesian style, with exaggerated ruffles and embossed masks hiding their identity. Edric always thought Orlesians looked ridiculous, but somehow Vivienne managed to look quintessentially Orlesian while preserving the sensibilities of elegance and taste. That is to say, even Edric was impressed by Vivienne de Fer’s fashion sense.

Cass would only shrug when he brought it up though.

“Ah, Monsieur Cadash, greetings and welcome to Montsimmard. How are you, my dear?” Vivienne greeted warmly.

“Walkin’ and talkin’”

Vivienne looked down her nose as Cass, her gaze flickering over her in a quick appraisal, “Why, Cassandra Pentaghast, a great pleasure to see you here as well. I must confess to come surprise to see you still following Edric Cadash around. I had the good fortune to encounter Prince Tythas Pentaghast recently when I was last on Nevarra. He was in very good health all things considered,”

Cass looked uncomfortable at the mention of her fortunate family ties. She was not on good terms with them, and she highly doubted any one of them would admit to kinship with a former member of the failed Inquisition turned pirate. Madame de Fer knew this no doubt. She opted to ignore the comment, instead saying “You’ve brought a lot of men to haul a few crates,”

Madame de Fer waived her hand with an unconcerned air, “I could not be sure Edric here did not have any ulterior motive in calling this meeting. We did not part on the best of terms last we met. I’m sure you understand my caution,” she said this as though she weren’t fully capable of defending herself without bodyguards. More likely she simply considered such ‘brawling’ beneath her.

“We’re just on a job, Vivienne, not interested in surprises,”

_Up on the hill snipers watched the proceedings through the scope of their guns. The one on the left didn’t notice the approaching footsteps, or have time to react to the large grey hand that clamped down over his mouth and nose. The Iron Bull calmly dropped the now unconscious man onto the hillside and took his place in the grass, watching the scene below play out. He grinned._

“I don’t see any cargo with you,” Madame de Fer said lightly.

“You’re not gonna, until I got 200 platinum,”

The Enchanter to the Orlesian courts tutted delicately, “Come now, my dear, don’t be so coy. You know very well I can’t take it on faith you have the items you say,”

Edric pulled back his jacket and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small runed object. He tossed it to Madame de Fer who casually raised her hand and the relic stopped in mid air, held by a little barrier, she held out her hand underneath it and the object dropped into her hand. Apparently catching was beneath Madame de Fer too.

“It’s authentic,” Edric told her, “Genuine elven crafted mana transistors, from the time of the empire or Arlathan. One of those will channel magical energy efficiently enough to power a family house for three months or more with a standard lyrium cell. Longer, if they’re not too bothered about heating.”

Madame de Fer inspected the elven relic and nodded, satisfied, “Yes, that will do nicely,” she passed the relic to the bodyguard on her left, and tilted her head toward Edric and Cass. The man took the item and stowed it away, then reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a pouch of coins, which he tossed to Edric. “And now, the location of the main shipment, if you would be so kind?”

***

Felix sat up suddenly, looking confused. “Dorian?” he called.

“What’s wrong?” Dagna asked from her bed across the room.

Felix swung himself off the makeshift bed and, looking quite dazed, made his way out of the infirmary. He grunted suddenly, stumbling against the doorframe, and gasping as though the wind had suddenly been knocked out of him.

“Look at you, all woke up,” Samson sneered, coming into view, with a gun trained on Felix’s head. He grabbed Felix’s arm, hauling the swooning mage upright. “Be a good magey and come along quietly now. Your magic won’t be back for a bit yet,” Samson looked up to where Dagna sat up in her bed, blue eyes large, staring at him. He dropped Felix’s arm to pull out another gun, which he pointed at Dagna, “Oh I’m sorry about what happened before, but make so much as a sound and the next one goes through your throat,”

Dagna shrank back slightly, and nodded, eyes darting between him and Felix. Samson dropped his arm and placed a firm hand on Felix’s shoulder, turning him to face the stairway. With his other hand he pressed a gun into the back of Felix’s neck and then pushed him out into the hallway. Felix’s breath hitched slightly, but he went quietly.


	13. Chapter 13

“About east half a mile, bottom of the first hill. You’ll see where it’s been dug,” Edric was saying to Madame de Fer.

“Thank you, darling,”

“Well then,” Edric said meaningfully.

“Hm?” Madame de Fer raised a questioning eyebrow. There was an uncomfortable silence, and a couple of the men seemed to glance to the side, clearly expecting the snipers to do their jobs, and surprised to find that it wasn’t happening. Madame Vivienne de Fer was of course far too good to show surprise or concern so easily.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d all turn around and ride out first,” Edric said.

Madame de Fer sighed theatrically, “Well, I’m afraid, there is a slight problem with that,”

“We both made out on this deal, don’t complicate things,”

“Edric, my dear, just how do you expect me to explain the appearance of three crates of ancient elven relics in Montsimmard? I am certainly capable of concealing much from their notice out here on the borders, but three crates? No, far too risky. And you see, I have a rule. I don’t pass up opportunities to ingratiate myself with the powers that run this galaxy. Which is perhaps why I am running the Circle of Montsimmard, and First Enchanter to Magistrate Celene of Val Royeaux, while you are hopping from planet to planet begging for scraps. Now, if I were to recover stolen goods from bandits, bandits I could hand over to the proper authorities, well… I’m sure you take my meaning, dear,”

“You’d murder us in cold blood for that?” Cass cut in, incredulous.

Madame de Fer frowned, looking displeased, “Now, Cassandra, what do you take me for? I am no common thug, playing queen on a border world moon. We’ll be taking you in alive of course,”

“Could be messy. We’d certainly tell our side, and that’d be tough to explain,”

“Not terribly,” Madame de Fer laughed, “my dear, a nameless bandit, throwing accusations at Madame de Fer of Orlais won’t get very far. And what would you accuse me _of_ exactly? Luring you into a trap to apprehend you?”

Edric looked one of her bodyguards up and down. The man had one of the large Orlesian hats that for the life of him Edric could not explain; a puffed up, velvet monstrosity.

“That’s quite a rifle,” he nodded to the man, “Boy must be your best shot to carry that,”

“Baron Arlange has a passion for Wyvern hunting,”

“Baron Arlange,” Edric inclined his head, “Nice hat,”

A shot rang out, and an unconscious Arlange slumped forward off his horse. Edric had a moment to register that it was, in fact, a tranquiliser dart now embedded in Arlange’s neck, before an ungodly screeching filled the air. Edric stumbled back slightly, watching in horror at thick purple smoke filled the air, rising up into the shape of a skull. Strange whispers filled his ears, moans, cackles, and high pitched screams like that of despair demons before they attacked. The shouts of men and screams of horses joined the cacophony. Vivienne de Fer cried out as flames burst in front of her own horse, which reared and she fell hard onto the floor. Another shot, and the horse went down on top of her, a tranquiliser dart visible in its flank.

Cass started shooting then, and Edric shook himself out of his reverie, going for his own gaatlok pistol. The bodyguards who had not immediately been thrown started firing too, and he heard Cass grunt in surprise as she was knocked to the ground by a shot connecting with her chest.

***

Leliana groaned as she came to, fingering the wound on the side of her head. She sat up suddenly, realising what had just happened, and managed to stumble to her feet. How could she have been so stupid?

She tried the door. Locked. That didn’t hold her long.

Samson was nowhere to be seen when she looked into the corridor. She had to fix this. But going after a Templar lieutenant unarmed in her current state was a recipe for disaster. She turned to the stairs and headed up toward the bridge.

Varric started to his feet when she entered, “Sister Nightingale? What happened?”

Leliana frowned, “Nightingale?” she asked.

“Oh, uh… everyone has nicknames. Just hadn’t told you yours yet. Heard you singing, and it was… not what’s important right now. Samson?”

Leliana pursed her lips, “He surprised me,”

The sending crystal flashed and vibrated. Varric turned and flicked a rune, opening a connection to the infirmary. “He took him!” said the strained voice of Dagna on the other end, “He took Felix,”

“I’m coming,” Leliana told her firmly, and turned to Varric, “I need a gun,”

Varric looked like he was going to say something like ‘aren’t you a Chantry sister?’, but seemed to realise that now wasn’t the time and just nodded. He pulled out a gaatlock pistol from under the flight controls, and a strange contraption that looked like a crossbow. Leliana took the offered pistol, and looked questioningly at the crossbow.

“This here’s Bianca. It’s a bowcaster,” Varric explained, “Only one like it,”

Leliana shrugged, and wobbled unsteadily, but set her jaw, “Let’s go,” she said.

She was out of the room in a shot, and Varric had barely started behind her when a frantic whirring caught his attention. He turned back, staring in horror at the monitor. “Oh don’t. Don’t you dare,”

***

Samson shoved Felix through the hanger, steering him roughly to a control panel, which he punched, and the hanger doors started to open slowly. Up above them Leliana raced around the upper walkways, trying to get as close as possible. She couldn’t get a clean shot from here, and her head was not clear enough to attempt such a risky feat, she might hit the boy. Instead she leapt over the bannister and landed heavily on Samson. He and Felix landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs and the gaatlock pistols he carried went skidding across the floor. Leliana just rolled away gracefully, her momentum carrying her up into a crouching position with her back to the hanger doors, gun trained on Samson. She teetered shakily as she stood up, but held her ground.

***

Cass groaned, looking up at the chaos in front of her. Flames had sprung to life in between her and the Orlesian bodyguards. Bull had been right about pyromancy it seemed. She raised her shotgun and fired a round at one of the men who had managed to keep control of his spooked horse and was in the process of riding round for another pass. Off to her side Edric grunted, and she looked round to see him grimace in pain at a fresh wound in his shoulder before angrily training his pistol on another shooter. A second later an Orlesian Baron lay writhing on the ground clutching his knee.

The group looked to have thinned out. Vivienne de Fer was still struggling to shift the dead weight of her horse off of her with little success. Cass sighed, and sent up a prayer of thanks to Andraste that Vivienne had been taken out of the fight so easily. The other mage Vivienne had brought had been no match for Dorian, who had dispatched of him quickly with a fire mine. Mines never failed to unnerve Cass, she’d seen enough of their devastating effects for a lifetime.

“Cass you ok?” Edric asked.

Cass grunted, opening her shirt to inspect the damage before struggling to her feet. “Armour’s dented,” she explained.

“Edric, don’t you come another step,” Madame de Fer commanded, still giving orders even when trapped underneath a horse.

Edric strode over to her, and pointed his pistol directly at Vivienne’s head. She glared back at him, but didn’t move or say anything more. “Now I did a job,” he told her, “And I got nothing but trouble since I did it, not to mind a few unkind words as regard to my character. So let me make this abundantly clear.” He held up the pouch of coins. “I do the job. And then I get paid. Have fun playing politics in Val Royeaux.”

Edric walked away, managing a brief smile at Cass and Dorian who had just appeared from the side of the valley, before the Iron Bull came tearing down the hillside.

“Boss! It’s Varric. There’s another ship coming in. They followed us. The blighted Darkspawn followed us!”

***

Samson groaned, blinking in confusion. Felix made a small choked sound, scrambling up and back away from Samson, cringing between two crates as though they could somehow keep the world from him.

Samson rolled, springing toward the pistol on the floor.

“Don’t move!” Leliana said, with deadly command in her voice. She didn’t sound like the mild sister who had been singing the Chant of Light by Dagna’s bed only a few hours hence.

Varric’s voice interrupted anything else she might have said, “Darkspawn! Darkspawn incoming and heading right for us. We are in the air in one minute,”

Samson gave Leliana a desperate look, fully aware he’d been backed into a corner.

“You’d do that?” he asked, “You’d kill a Templar, a servant of the Chantry just like you, in cold blood?”

Leliana’s certain expression waivered, but she didn’t lower the weapon. A trickle of blood was still drying on her face and crusting in her hair.

“I know this situation has gotten out of control, and I know Dorian and Felix are both sympathetic, I understand why you would want to protect them. But would you really kill for them? Two fugitives from the law? I don’t want to hurt anybody, but I have a job to do. To uphold the law, not just of Tevinter, but Andraste. These men are apostates, and they must be brought back to one or other of the Circles,” he reasoned with her. “Nobody is going to hurt the boy,” he shifted slightly, making a fresh attempt to retrieve his weapon.

“I said, don’t move!” Leliana barked.

“As you say,” Samson agreed, backing off again. There was a tense silence, the two just staring at one another.

Leliana jumped nervously and spun round, hearing the doors to the hanger begin to slide open and horses whinnying. The distraction was costly. Samson went for his gaatlock pistol immediately, and Leliana only turned back just in time to see the movement and throw herself to the side and out of the way of the shot he fired at her. She dropped her own weapon, and in the time it took to find it again Samson had grabbed hold of Felix once more and had pressed the head of his gun against the mage’s temple.

Leliana fumbled with her pistol, her head swimming, but she pointed the weapon back at Samson.

“I’m not playing anymore,” Samson ground out, “anybody makes so much as –“

A shot silenced him.

Edric walked up behind Leliana, holstering his weapon. Samson was sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head. Felix simply stood, shivering, face too pale. Leliana stared dumbly.

Edric strode over to Samson. “Bull!” he called.

The Iron Bull was coming up the ramp with Cass and Dorian, and took in the scene with his intelligent eye, and nodded grimly. He ran over to the body of the Templar, and helped Edric pick up the dead weight.

Cass ran over to the sending crystal panel, activating the runes and speaking into it hurriedly, “Varric, we’re on, go!”

Dorian had brushed past Leliana, and run straight to Felix, still shaking in the middle of the hanger. Felix took a few steps back when he approached, eyes wild at first, but then they flickered in recognition and he let Dorian take his arm gently and steer him back toward the infirmary.

Edric and the Iron Bull hoisted Samson over the side of the ship as it took off, and leapt back through the doors as they closed.


	14. Chapter 14

“How close are they?” Edric demanded, watching the horizon sway. They couldn't see the ship following them from this angle, but Edric already knew they were close.

“About twenty seconds from spitting distance,” Varric answered.

“Well, lose ‘em,” the Iron Bull added gruffly.

Edric hurried round Cass to get a better view of the control panel, “show me on the imager,” an image flashed up; a dark coloured vessel about twice the size of the Skyhold, baring down on them. Lightening magic flashed and danced between large grapplers.

“Aya, Andraste juva, sub tuum praesidium,” Cass muttered.

“We need more speed,” Edric said grimly.

“How close do they need to be to fire those grapplers?” the Iron Bull asked.

“If everyone could just be quiet a moment,” Varric said slowly, dipping low to the ground suddenly and then steering the ship to the left, “I need Dagna in the power room, please,” he said, not taking his eyes from the countryside of Montsimmard.

Cass looked up, concerned, “Can she even –“

“Get her in there now!” Edric ordered the Iron Bull, who ran off without waiting to hear the end of the sentence.

Edric followed a couple of steps behind. Joesphine was coming down the corridor toward the bridge, skirting the Iron Bull and steadying herself on the bulkheads. Edric went up to her, “I want you to get in your shuttle, get the civilians and be ready to go,”

Josephine looked stunned, “We can’t just leave you here!”

“I thought that was the plan?” Edric didn’t hide the bitter note in his voice very well. “We get boarded, you take off. Head for the Circle. We might be able to stop them from following you,”

“They will kill you,” Josephine argued, shaking her head. She stopped speaking abruptly, looking down at Edric’s hand on her forearm, gentle and firm.

“Josie…” Edric’s voice was soft and he looked away, but instead of arguing further, he just pushed her away slightly, back toward the corridor, “Go…” he told her. Josephine didn’t protest, and headed back down the corridor, casting a pondering look back at the captain as he made his way back onto the bridge.

“How we doing?” Edric asked Varric, devoting his attention to the crisis at hand now that he knew some people at least were prepared to make an escape.

“I don’t mean to alarm anybody,” Varric replied with an edge of sarcasm, “but I think we’re being followed,”

Thick black smoke billowed behind the ship close behind the Skyhold, tinted red where it caught the sun. They were catching up.

***

Josephine hurried down to the infirmary, taking the steps two at a time. The Iron Bull was carrying little Dagna out into the corridor, Leliana trailing behind them. The little dwarf looked like a rag doll in the Iron Bull’s arms, her small hand clinging to his harness to keep her balance in the awkward position. Dorian was sat inside the infirmary, his attention on Felix, who was sat subdued and quiet on his makeshift bed.

Josephine placed her hand on Leliana’s shoulder as she came past to grab her attention and called in to Dorian. “You three,” she looked between Leliana, Dorian and Felix to make it clear who she meant, “Come with me,”

Leliana shook her head, “I think I can help Dagna,”

Dorian stood, “Should I…” he indicated in the direction of the Iron Bull and Dagna.

“Take him,” Leliana said, “Keep him safe,”

Josephine took Felix’s arm, coaxing him to stand, while Leliana disappeared after the Iron Bull. Dorian muttered a quick prayer, and followed Josephine.

***

Dagna tried to ignore the sheen of sweat on her forehead as she leant against the wall of the power room. She was drowsy, but she could do this. She had to.

“Tinkers, how are we doing?” Varric’s voice came over the sending crystal, “gonna need a little push here,”

“You want me to go full flow?” Dagna replied.

“Not just yet, but set it up,”

Dagna nodded, “Do you know where the lyrium flow regulator is?” she said to her helpers. Leliana looked at the Iron Bull, who returned her blank stare. Leliana grimaced and proceeded to look round the power room for something that looked like it might regulate lyrium flow… she pointed uncertainly to a dial on the lyrium battery. Dagna smiled, “head of the class,”

Dagna proceeded to direct Leliana and the Iron Bull, taking them through each step, before giving a satisfied nod. She activated the sending crystal, “We’re ready for full flow on your mark,”

Edric’s voice floated into the room, “Even at full flow they can push just as hard and keep right on us,” a pause, then, “Varric, you gotta give me a Caridin,”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Varric agreed, “Dagna, how would you feel about pulling a Crazy Caridin?”

“Always wanted to try one,” Dagna looked to the Iron Bull, “Bull, open that hatch over there, we need two amplification runes,”

The Bull obediently opened the hatch and pulled out a box.

“Now, it’s real easy to find,” Dagna assured him.

The Bull opened the box, and immediately scowled blackly at the little archanist, finding dozens of different runes, elven, dwarven and human all jumbled together.

***

“They’re on us!” Cass yelled, seeing an electrical loop spring into being from the ship behind.

“Dagna!” Varric in turn yelled into the sending crystal.

There was an ominous pause; a foreboding silence filled only by Edric’s whispered, “Come on, come on, come on, come on…”

“Ok” Dagna said, her voice sounding weak.

“Right,” Varric opened the sending crystals to Josephine’s shuttle as well, “Everyone hold on to something!” he grinned then, “here’s something you can’t do,” he said gleefully, and slammed a lever down.

The whole of Skyhold shuddered and jolted, the direction of the engines switching suddenly. The ship turned, pointing right at the Darkspawn ship, which sped past them.

“NOW!” Varric shouted, flipping controls and slamming down another lever.

In the power room Leliana and the Iron Bull hurriedly activated the needed runes, and the lyrium engine sprang to life with a blue glow that was almost too bright to look at and too hot to stand near comfortably. The flames in the engines sprang to life, the atmosphere behind them catching with a frightening explosion of arcane energy, and the Skyhold shot into the sky, heading for the black of space. Behind them the shockwave slammed into the Darkspawn ship, which spun out of control down toward the planet. With any luck it would crash before the creatures brought the ship under control.

The tension slowly drained out of Varric, and he managed to unclaw his grip on the steering controls.

Edric clapped him on the shoulder, “I knew I hired you for something,”

Over the sending crystals the Iron Bull’s whoops and cheers could be heard, and Cass draped her arm around Varric, a relieved grin on her face.

“No way they can come around in time to follow us now,” she said gratefully.

Edric smiled in response and said into the sending crystals, “We’re good people. We’re out of the woods,”

There was a few moments of quiet, where the only sound was Varric tapping out a few commands on the ship controls, and the Skyhold creaking slightly as it levelled into a somewhat calmer flight pattern.

“We should have just enough left in us to hit a fuel station,” he said, “We’ll need to do some patching up. I hope we got paid today!”

Edric chuckled, “We did,”

Cass smiled at Varric, and then looked suddenly nervous. She glanced at Edric, a strange flush in her cheeks.

Edric looked confused.

“Sir, would you take the helm? I would like to… spend some time with our pilot,” She turned and marched out of the room without another word.

Edric smothered a laugh, and gave Varric a wry grin, which Varric returned with a shrug, “work, work, work!” he said as he went to follow after Cass.

The captain sat down in the pilot’s seat with a heavy sigh. He turned the chair back to the controls, looking over the glowing runes and focus crystals. He sighed again. Well that was something.


	15. Chapter 15

Josephine dabbed a damp sponge on Leliana’s wound, frowning in concentration, and inspecting the cut for signs of infection, “I don’t really know what I’m doing. The young circle mage might be a better bet, though he’s not a healer, he has some knowledge of anatomy,”

“I think the skills of a necromancer can only be stretched so far,” Leliana replied.

“Well I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Josephine replied, and placed down the sponge, coming to sit beside the Chantry sister.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Leliana responded bitterly. Josephine gave her a questioning look, and Leliana smiled ruefully in response, “is life always like this? Out here…”

“Sometimes,”

“I’ve been away from the Chantry for two days.” Leliana began, “I’ve beaten a Templar senseless, I’ve fallen in with criminals, I watched the captain shoot the man I swore to protect, and might have shot him myself if the captain had not…” at the last admission Leliana’s voice faltered.

“Sister…” Josephine’s hand found Leliana’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and her other hand came to rest on her arm, a comforting weight.

“I believe. I just –“ Leliana looked up to the ceiling, fighting the tears that threatened to fall, “I think I’m on the wrong ship,”

“Maybe,” Josephine said, “Or maybe you’re exactly where you ought to be,” Leliana’s eyes met hers, and then she looked down, staring at the floor of the shuttle. The two women sat together quietly in the dim light, neither one offering any more words.

***

Dorian sat on the chair by Felix’s new bed in the now vacated guest quarters Samson no longer had need of. “This will help you sleep,” he said, handing his friend a warm herbal mixture of diluted deep mushroom and embrium.

“I’ve slept for so long,” Felix replied, sitting up to take the drink anyway.

“It’s just for a little while,” Dorian assured him, “And then we’ll find a place. A safe place beyond the reach of the Imperium,”

Felix was silent for a long moment, “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said eventually, staring down at the herbal tea, fingers stroking the sides of the cup nervously.

Something sad and pained flickered in Dorian’s eyes. Something in his body language must have given him away because even though Felix wasn’t looking at him he flinched. Dorian pulled himself up, “Don’t be absurd, leaving you in the hands of those mad Venatori? Insupportable,” his tone was light, and ever so slightly mocking. He hoped the familiarity of it would snap Felix out of his morose a little.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Felix’s lips and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Dorian’s. Dorian leaned into the touch, hid hand resting on his friend’s shoulder. If Felix trembled or shed any tears, Dorian didn’t comment.

***

“The apostates are a problem,” the Iron Bull told Edric, sitting with him on the bridge.

“The Templar said they’d keep looking for the boy, something about his spirit being all special or something. Unique he said, like nothing they’d seen. Important to the Magisterium.”

Edric nodded, “You’ll give me a full report on what you’ve learned?”

“Sure thing,” the Iron Bull nodded.

“Funny how you never mentioned having qamek before now,” Edric said, trying and failing to keep the note of accusation out of his voice.

The Iron Bull gave a surprised bark of laughter and pulled a small, and no longer glowing vial out of his pocket. “What this? Nah, this is just hydrogen peroxide and diphenyl oxalate with just a touch of lyrium for good measure to make the reaction stronger and a touch ‘magicy’. It’s basically a glowstick with lyrium in it. Broke the chemical seal before I went in. Thought it might be useful to have a funny glowing liquid that looked kinda like qamek. Was betting a Templar wouldn’t be able to tell the diff,”

Edric stared for a second and then laughed out loud, shaking his head. “You and Dagna need to get drunk together more often. I assume this is one of her innovations?”

“Well sure, but it was my idea!” the Iron Bull said proudly. “And didn’t she do a fine job? Mmm, that cute little redheaded genius, I could just eat her up!”

Edric rolled his eyes with a sardonic smile on his face, “You’re impossible,”

The Iron Bull grinned widely, and nodded to Edric, turning to leave. He saw Dorian coming up the steps to the bridge, and graced the Altus mage with a slow, deliberate leer as he went passed. Alarm, confusion, suspicion… and just a hint of lust played out on Dorian’s face, but the Iron Bull was gone before he had a chance to formulate a response. The mage walked onto the bridge, his cautious gaze falling on the captain, who had gone back to making minor course corrections.

“You need any salve or anything for that?” Dorian indicated Edric’s shoulder, where the Orlesian’s bullet had caught him, “I’ve gotten rather good at the basics of herbalism,”

“It’s just a graze,”

Dorian nodded, walking into the room fully rather than hovering in the doorway, “So, where do you plan on dumping us now that Montsimmard is out of the question?”

“There’s places you might be safe. You want the truth though, you’re probably safer on the move. And we never stop moving,”

Dorian frowned, “I’m confused,” he said, “No wait, I think maybe you’re confused,”

Edric scratched his chin, “It may have become apparent to you that the ship could use a mage. You ain’t weak. I don’t know how bright you are with your ‘most prestigious circles of the Imperium’ but you ain’t weak, and that’s not nothing. You’re decent in the field, and can think quick enough to make a pretty effective medic in a pinch. You live by my rule, you keep your friend from causing trouble, you could maybe find a place here till you find someplace better,”

Dorian sat down, watching Edric suspiciously as he tried to come up with a response, “I am trying, and failing to think of a delicate way to ask this, but how do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

Edric blinked. Ok, that wasn’t a response he’d anticipated.

“You don’t know me son, so let me explain this to you once. If I ever kill you, you’ll be awake, you’ll be facing me, and you’ll be armed… well that part might be moot, since you’re a mage, you’re always armed, but some kind of active threat will be implied.”

“Are you always this sentimental?”

“I’ve had a good day,” Edric shrugged,”

Dorian gave him an incredulous look, “You had the Imperium on you, a Circle mage first enchanter, blight ridden savages. Half the people on the ship have been shot or wounded, including yourself. And you’re harbouring known fugitives.”

“We’re still flying,”

“That’s not much”

“It’s enough,”


End file.
